Into the Abyss
by Jennifoofighter
Summary: He wants the one who got away... Martin POV/Martin Angst/MS/Casefile
1. Chapter 1

  
**TITLE: Into the Abyss **  
**AUTHOR: Jennifoofighter**  
**RATING: R**  
**KEYWORDS: Martin POV, MS, Martin angst **  
**SPOILERS/TIMELINE: Set Post 3x16 "Manhunt" **  
**ARCHIVE: It will be posting simultaneously at DestinedTo and fanfictionnet**  
**SPECIAL THANKS: To everyone who reads my fics and more so to the ones who take time to review. I know I am horrible at saying thanks but each one truly makes my day a little brighter. Thank you!!**  
**EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS: to Stephell for agreeing to beta. So if there is anything you don't like, blame her, she made me do it! But to be fair, if you do like it, it's because she made me think, work and try harder. Seriously, I'm exhausted. **  
**DISCLAIMER: Hank and Co. own everything **_**Without a Trace**_**. No copyright infringement is intended. I write so I can make them do what I want if only for a little while. **  
**SUMMARY: **_**He wants the one who got away…**_

XoXoXoX

_Your memory is a monster, you forget – it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you – and summons them to your recall with a will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you! _

"_A Prayer for Owen Meany" – John Irving _

XoXoXoX

Chapter 1

XoXoXoX

_Summer 1987_

XoXoXoX

"_Jump! Jump! Jump!"_

_Martin moved closer to the edge, carefully making his way over the rocky terrain in his Converse sneakers. He stood at the cliff and looked down to see his friends sitting in their canoes as they stared up at him, chanting "Jump!" over and over. He gave them a half-hearted wave and wondered how he ended up here. _

_Actually, he knew exactly how he ended up in this predicament and it was all thanks to his big mouth._

_The night before he and a bunch of his friends were talking about the legend surrounding Cayuga Cliff and Martin made the mistake of saying that he could do the jump if he wanted. Unfortunately, this little comment led to other kids challenging his statement and before he even knew how it happened, he had been challenged to make the jump the following afternoon. Which was why he was now standing on the cliff, preparing to leap over the side into the water below and quite possibly his own death. _

_Resolved he took a deep breath and turned around, walking back to safer ground. He removed his baseball cap, tossed it onto the ground near a bush before pulling off his t-shirt and toeing off his sneakers, tossing them in the same general area._

_He slowly shuffled back towards the edge, the rocks digging into the soles of his bare feet. The ground was hot from the sun and it burned the bottoms of his feet. He remembered reading in National Geographic about young boys in tribes who had to walk across a bed of hot coals as a rite of passage into manhood. He wondered if they felt as nervous as he did right now or if they just knew they had to do it and didn't think twice – because he was having second thoughts and third and fourth…_

"_Jump! Jump!"_

_He reached the edge and sighed heavily, the sun directly above him and beating down its fiery hot rays that made the back of his neck feel like it was on fire. It also made the world around him impossibly bright white so that even the water below didn't look blue. The sun's rays were bouncing off the water's waves making it sparkle like fireworks. _

_He squinted down at his friends, their faces obscured against the sunlight. _

_He wondered why on earth he agreed to this dare. It was a documented camp legend that only the bravest boys jumped off the cliff and while he always considered himself brave he couldn't help but wonder if it was more suicidal than bravery. After all, every other kid who tried was either killed, severely disabled or was never seen or heard from again. At least that was what he was told. No one could quite recall having actually met someone who made the jump. _

_Of course, legend also told that the boys who survived the jump bragged about seeing things deep in those watery depths. The abyss is what they called it, claiming to see fish that were bigger than them, with big buggy eyes and long elegant fins. There was also talk of a mermaid who lived in an underwater lair. No accounts could be verified, however, and now it was up to him to prove them or discredit it all as rumor and myth. _

"_Jump! Jump!"_

_He inched closer to the ledge, the tips of his toes clutching onto the dirt and rock that hung over the side. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest and hear his blood roaring in his ears. Using his hand he wiped the sweat from his brow and rubbed it against his shorts._

"_You can do this, Martin," he mumbled to himself as he held out his arms, bent his knees and…_

XoXoXoX

Winter 2005

XoXoXoX

In the moonlit shadows of the bedroom Martin shifted trying to seek out some warmth. He reached down to pull up the blanket but without luck. He cracked open an eye to see that he was lying in the bed without so much as a wisp of a sheet covering his boxer clad body. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over to see that Sam was still the reigning queen as stealer of covers.

He sighed as he carefully reached over and tried to pull some of the covers back over to his side without waking her up. While he was enjoying getting to sleep with her every night, sleeping next to her was an entirely different matter. She would inevitably hog all the blankets, leaving him to fend for himself. He glanced at her slumbering face, nestled peacefully in the bundle of sheets and blankets before he gently tugged on one end of the sheet trying hard not to disturb her.

And then his cell phone rang.

"Shit," he mumbled as he maneuvered back over to his side of the bed and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. He glanced at the clock; the digital numbers illuminated a bright red: 1:05 am. He felt Sam stir and roll over behind him. He turned to look at her, her eyes blinking as they tried to focus in the darkness. He flipped open his cell phone, the bright blue light from the keypad stung his eyes and answered, "Fitzgerald."

"Hi, Martin, sorry to wake you," Jack's gruff voice greeted him.

"It's alright," he replied, casting a quick glance at Sam who was watching him quizzically. "What's up, Jack?"

"I need you to come down to the office," he directed, skipping any pleasantries.

"I'm on my way," he replied before clicking off his cell phone. He rubbed his weary eyes and yawned, tilting his head side to side, shaking the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.

Sam sat up, holding the sheet over her bare chest. "Do we have a case?" she asked; her voice husky from sleep.

"I guess so but unless he calls you directly you should just stay in bed." He stood up and walked to the chair in the corner of the bedroom to pick up his discarded trousers and shirt. "You're not on call tonight so you might as well get some rest before hitting the case tomorrow morning."

"You're probably right." She lay back down, her head resting on the pillow her eyes still watching him.

He grabbed his jacket and shoes and moved to the side of the bed, leaning over to kiss her. "I love it when you think I am actually right."

She smiled, her body looking soft and languid beneath him and whispered, "Well, don't let it go to you head, it doesn't happen very often."

He smiled and moved the final few inches to kiss her squarely on the mouth. "See you later."

"Later," she replied before closing her eyes and rolling back over to go to sleep, pulling all the covers with her in the process.

He shook his head and smiled down at her before stepping into the bathroom to get ready before heading to work.

A short while later he was on the elevator up to the office. He watched the numbers light up marking each level as the elevator ascended to the twelfth floor. He yawned between sips of the large coffee he picked up on his way, hoping the caffeine would start taking effect very soon.

The elevator finally stopped and he stepped out. He didn't see Jack in his office so he continued down the hall to the bullpen. He glanced around and there was still no sign of him or anyone else from the team. He decided to wander over to see if someone was in an interview room. As he turned the corner he saw Jack talking with Kyle Saracen who was an SAC in Violent Crimes. The two men were talking as they stood in front of one of the interview room windows. Engrossed in their conversation neither man noticed him approach.

"Do you think he's for real?" Jack asked as he stared into the two-way mirror.

"He knows details about all the cases that were never released to the press, things he couldn't have known otherwise. Plus, he said he can produce the souvenirs as evidence if we can grant his request," Kyle replied as he sipped the last of his coffee from the paper cup before tossing it into a nearby trashcan. "Jack, if he is the guy we need him to talk. Do you really think that he can handle it?"

Jack shrugged as he stared darkly into the room. "I hope so."

"I want to know where those other bodies are buried but I also don't want to give this guy a chance to fuck with his mind either. He has enough victims stacked up; I don't want to give him another." Kyle folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. "I can't imagine how I would react if I were in his shoes."

"Whose shoes?" Martin asked, announcing his presence. He glanced into the interview room and saw an elderly man seated there.

"Good, you're here," Jack said as he stepped away from the window. "Let's go talk in my office."

He started to lead him down the hall when Martin asked, "Who's he?" He kept his eyes on the man sitting at the table looking relaxed and unconcerned about his surroundings. It was as if he were in a café waiting on his meal to be served instead of a federal interview room at two in the morning.

"I'll tell you in my office," Jack replied as he walked down the hall, not giving Martin a chance to ask another question. Once the three men were in his office Jack closed the door and told Martin and Kyle to sit down on the sofa.

Martin wasn't sure why, but there was something in the way Jack was acting that set him on edge. His eyes darted between the two men before he finally asked, "What's going on? You called me in the middle of the night to come down right away. I do, you're here with Kyle from VCU and there's a guy in the interview room, what's up?"

Jack sat down on the chair across from the sofa and answered first, "Kyle called me earlier this evening to tell me that Richard Dodson," he paused and clarified, "the man in the interview room, has confessed to a series of murders of young teenage boys going as far back as the late 70s to the mid-90s." A pained look crossed his face and he grimly finished, "Thirteen boys total."

"Why is he confessing now?"

"He won't say," Kyle answered as he stood up and picked up a large stack of case files that were sitting on Jack's desk. He sat back down and handed him the files. "He gave us just enough information so we could confirm that he is who he says he is; details from cases that he could never have known if he wasn't the killer."

Martin put his cup of coffee down on the table so he could flip through the files. Inside were pictures of young, cheerful boys in school photos juxtaposed with grisly crime scene photos of their young mutilated bodies in shallow graves. His heart clenched at all of these boys' lives cut tragically short.

"As you can see according to the initial report, the boys were all drugged. Our best guess is that he doped them up so he could move them to a second location with little resistance," Kyle contributed as Martin looked through the files. "They were also operating under the assumption that they were originally taken for sexual purposes but because of the lack of sexual trauma that the killer was most likely impotent. Realizing that he couldn't…rise to the occasion he would fly into a rage and torture the boys with cigarettes before finally slitting their throats."

For every file he closed he opened up another to see the same gruesome images repeated over and over. "Why would he keep taking boys knowing that he couldn't ever get the satisfaction he wanted?"

"But he did," Kyle corrected. "For some serial murderers killing is a form of sexual release."

Martin just shook his head disgusted by the senselessness of it all.

"What do we know about Dodson?" he asked, his eyes focused on the file. When he didn't get any immediate answer he looked up to see Kyle and Jack exchange a worried look. "Is there any history connecting him to the boys?"

There was a long pause when Jack finally answered, "Tech is cross referencing his name and photograph against all the databases but so far no luck." He rubbed his chin and added, "Since the victims were from several different states it's going to take some time."

"Okay," Martin replied, closing the file but book marking it with his index finger. "I still don't get why I am here. If he confessed to all the crimes, why do you need me?"

Kyle glanced at Jack before explaining, "Dodson not only confessed to killing the thirteen that we know about, he also claims that he killed three more that we haven't found."

Martin nodded his head, puzzled. "So do you want me to work the case? See if I can learn any more facts about the other boys?"

"Actually, Martin we need a lot more than that," Jack said, his words careful and deliberate. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze trained on Martin's face. "Dodson said he is willing to reveal where we can find the remaining three bodies but he won't tell us – at least not directly."

"You lost me."

"He said he wants to talk to the boy that got away," Jack quietly breathed out.

"Got away?" Martin repeated.

Kyle shifted in his seat and explained, "He claims that one of the boys taken was by accident, that he meant to get his friend but there was some confusion and he ended up snagging the wrong kid."

Perplexed, he furrowed his brow and asked, "So, you want me to look for the boy he meant to take?"

Jack shook his head. "No, we know who the boy is." He took a deep breath and finished, "Martin, you were that boy."


	2. Chapter 2

XoXoXoX

_Midnight, our sons and daughters_  
_Were cut down and taken from us_  
_Hear their heartbeat…_  
_We hear their heartbeat_

'Mothers of the Disappeared' – U2

XoXoXoX

Chapter 2

XoXoXoX

"_Don't fear the reaper," a voice behind him said. Martin paused mid-jump and looked over his shoulder to see his best friend Chris smiling at him. "At least that's what Blue Oyster Cult would tell you." _

"_What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised to find his friend standing behind him. _

_Chris shrugged and walked up to where he stood. They were shoulder to shoulder as they both looked down. "Wow, this is even higher than I thought it would be."_

_Chris Warner had been his best friend since they were eight years old. They met when Chris' family lived next door to his Aunt Bonnie's house in Long Island. They would spend their entire summer vacations playing together. When Chris' family moved into Manhattan they both convinced their parents to send them to Camp Cayuga so they could still spend their summer's hanging out. Each time they were reunited it was as if no time had passed as they both fell easily into a familiar routine. _

_They often joked it was like they were brothers separated at birth. Not only did they get along great but they also looked alike: sandy brown hair, same height, weight, and matching dimples. The only big difference was Martin had blue eyes and Chris's were brown. But more than their physical features, they were alike in so many other ways. _

_They were both only children who grew up with parents that were well connected and placed a lot of pressure on their son's education, friends, behavior, and future endeavors. While Martin lived in Arlington and his mom and dad wanted him to go into politics, Chris lived in Manhattan and both of his parents were surgeons who expected him to eventually go on to medical school and follow in their footsteps. At fourteen years old both boys' futures were planned out in every little detail and they both resented it. _

_However every summer, during those eight weeks when they attended camp, they could shake off their parental shackles of expectations and plan the futures they wanted. _

"_Hey look, Chris is up there, too!" someone shouted. Martin recognized the source of the voice as that of Ricky Narducci. He was a bruiser of a boy with dark black hair, meaty paws and a constant grimace on his face. He was both a friend and a rival. They played together but each one was competitive and hated to lose. Be it football, canoeing, or just walking to the commissary, each one wanted to be first. It was he who dared him to make the jump off the cliff. Martin couldn't decide if it was because he wanted him to prove himself or if was hoping that he would plummet to his death. _

"_The Double Mint twins are jumping together!" another boy shouted, this time the source of the voice was his friend Matt Clinger. He looked over to see the red headed freckled faced boy cup his hands around his mouth and shout, "Will you just jump already? I'm getting sunburned here!" _

_There was a scattering of laughter before the group of campers returned to their chant from earlier. "Jump! Jump! Jump!"_

"_What a bunch of jerks," Chris commented before spitting over the side, as if testing the height of the cliff with his spittle. _

"_Jerks or not I can't back down now," Martin replied, shaking his head. He looked over at his friend and with a sheepish grin added, "What the hell, its only teenage wasteland."_

"_The Who," Chris replied with a grin. "Nice."_

"_I guess its time," he said, looking down to see more canoes from other kids from camp paddling their way to watch Martin Fitzgerald leap off of Cayuga Cliff. _

"_Yeah," Chris replied, nodding his head. He sighed audibly and said, "Well, I guess we better get this over and done with."_

"_We?" he repeated, incredulous. "What do you mean 'we'?"_

_His friend smiled and stepped back away from the cliff. "Well, I was thinking," he pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it next to Martin's, "that if you jump and see something really great, then I am going to get jealous and want to jump myself." He yanked off his sneakers and tossed them as well. He turned and looked at Martin. "So I figure we might as well do it together right now." _

"_You're serious?" he asked, secretly thrilled that he wasn't going to have to do this alone. He stepped back, away from the edge and down below he heard the collective moans of disappointment from the kids down below that still no one had jumped. _

"_Hey, you didn't really think I was going to let you get all the glory and go down in camp history alone did you?" Chris asked as he met Martin halfway. "We're jumping together."_

"_You sure?"_

"_I'm sure," Chris confidently replied. "Come on, let's do this." _

_The two boys walked back over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. The other kids from the camp had paddled their canoes away from where they might dive and went quiet, waiting for the two boys to jump. _

_Martin swallowed, staring down below. "So, what do you think, count of three?"_

"_Okay," Chris agreed. _

_He cleared his throat and began, "One," he took a breath, steeling his nerves, "Two," he mentally psyched himself up before finishing by yelling out, "Three!" _

_And the two boys jumped. _

XoX

Martin sat shock still, too stunned to speak. A serial murderer had once made him a target but by a cruel twist of fate he took someone that Martin knew instead. He thought back to his school years trying to think if any kid he knew had gone missing but because of his father's work they had moved at least four times from kindergarten to high school so that even if a friend had gone missing he might never have even known.

He finally found his voice and stammered out, "Me? How do you know it's me?"

Jack cleared his throat and replied, "He said that he recognized your name from all the press during the Mike Gerard case."

"My name?" he repeated, his thought process finally catching up with his mouth. "How do we know he's for real and not just making something up? He might have me confused with someone else."

"We don't," Kyle replied, shaking his head. "That's why we need for you to talk to him."

"You want me to talk to the guy who says he wanted to kidnap me and," he paused, a sour taste in his mouth, "and hurt me when I was a kid?" Martin clarified, quickly standing up and pacing the small space in front of Jack's desk.

"Basically, yeah," Kyle confirmed resignedly.

"How am I supposed to reply to that?" he asked, clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced. Suddenly the walls in Jack's office felt like they were closing in, restricting the oxygen in the room.

"Look Martin, I know its asking a lot and it won't be easy," Jack said, his eyes following Martin's pacing form. "I'd do it myself if I could but he said he only wants to talk to you."

"I don't want you to do this either but we've been trying to get information out of him for the last seven hours and he refuses to talk to anyone else but you about those final three missing boys," Kyle explained, leaning forward, his legs spread, and rested his elbows on his knees and said, "We can try and go about this another way. Do you have any idea which one of your friends he might have taken?"

An image of the only friend he ever truly lost in his life flashed in his mind but as quickly as he thought of him he immediately dismissed him as a possibility. He shook his head. "No, I don't. We moved a lot when I was kid but as far as I knew no one ever went missing."

"We need you to talk to him," Kyle pressed, before his voice went gentler as he finished, "But only if you think you can handle it. It's your choice."

Martin shook his head. "It isn't my choice." He glanced at Jack, a sudden feeling of camaraderie as he thought back to that long rainy drive with Graham Spaulding in the backseat. "Sometimes you have to do something incredibly difficult to help bring someone home." He took a deep breath, trying to ease the panicky feeling in his gut. "I'll talk to him."

"Good," Kyle said as he stood up and walked to the door. "Give me a few minutes to talk to Dodson and lay down the ground rules."

Once Kyle was out of the office, Jack turned to face him and said, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"No," he truthfully replied. "But I have to do it."

Jack nodded slowly and said, "I wish I could offer you some foolproof advice for this type of scenario but it's unprecedented for me."

Martin stopped his pacing and leaned back against Jack's desk. The wooden surface served as an anchor, holding him in place. "Anything you can share would be great."

"Well," Jack replied, considering. "He's egomaniacal. He's gone this far without being caught and the only reason he is in custody now is because he turned himself in. Add in the fact that he has the upper hand on the identity of the three boys who were never accounted for and demanding to speak to you, it's pretty safe to think that he feels he is the one in control."

"I'd say he has plenty of reasons to think he does."

"Yeah, but just remember," Jack quickly corrected. "He can think it all he wants and you can play to it but do not for a minute think he has any control over you. The moment you feel your control slipping I want you to stop the interview and walk out. Do you hear me?"

Martin lowered his eyes, sighing heavily. "I want to feel in control but right now I'm feeling nervous more than anything else."

"That's what he wants," Jack explained, his voice going softer. "He can't hurt you and he can't hurt any of those boys anymore. We just need him to give us enough information to bring them home and give their families some peace."

He nodded.

"Maybe we should wait," Jack said, standing up and walking to the door. "We can do some background checks on kids you went to school with…"

"No," Martin quickly interjected. "That could take days and I guarantee that I won't feel any less nervous, I need to do this now." He walked to the door and opened it. Before exiting he paused and looked at Jack, "Besides, even if I don't know when to stop I'm pretty sure you will."

Jack gave him a scrutinizing look before nodding and following him out.

They quietly made their way to the interview room. They watched as Kyle lectured Dodson on protocol while the old man simply nodded agreeably, taking small sips of his water. Martin folded his arms and studied the man with whom he shared a connection he never knew about.

By all accounts Richard Dodson was an unassuming man. He was of average height and average features. He had thin silver colored hair that he combed back and to the side. His complexion was pale, with that wrinkly white skin that looked like crepe paper. He was wearing tan khaki pants with a dark green sweater and white orthopedic sneakers. He looked like one of those nondescript senior citizens who frequented Central Park and contributed to the fattening of the cities pigeon population not someone who molested and murdered sixteen boys.

When Kyle finished talking he nodded and exited the interview room. Both Jack and Martin turned in the direction of the door to see Kyle heading for them.

With an evaluating look, Kyle asked, "You ready?"

He nodded, glancing quickly at Jack who gave him an encouraging nod and pat on the back. He stepped around the corner, squared his shoulders and with shaky fingers and sweaty palms turned the doorknob and entered the interview room.

The moment he entered Dodson looked over at him, an excited smile on his face. "Hello."

Martin couldn't manage to exchange the pleasantry so he simply walked over to the table, pulled out the chair and sat down. Up close Dodson looked older than he had earlier thought. He had faint colored liver spots along his temple, rheumy eyes and a smoker's mouth, with numerous wrinkles strategically placed around the lips from years of puffing on cigarettes.

"So here I am," Martin said, trying to sound as calm as he didn't feel.

Undeterred by his coldness, the old man's enthusiasm grew and his grin widened. With a joyful, excited tone he said, "I recognized you immediately the moment I saw your face on the news. I knew it was you, Marty." Hearing Dodson refer to him by his nickname sent a creeping chill up Martin's spine. "This is unusual for me. I don't normally get to see my boys all grown up."

Trying hard to maintain the control that Jack told him he needed, he flatly replied, "That's the drawback of killing them."

A flash of disappointment crossed Dodson's face before he quickly returned to his cheery demeanor. "You'll have to forgive me, it's just this is a really auspicious reunion of sorts for me." He was practically gaping as he talked. "This is quite a thrill."

He shifted uncomfortably under Dodson's intense gaze and a thought that thrill is the very last word he would use to describe this moment.

"It's uncanny," Dodson continued with exuberance. "Its like I can still see the boy you used to be, with the same boyish face with the square jaw line and bright blue eyes." He paused, his eyes scanning over Martin's face. "You even have the same short haircut with that pesky cowlick."

He reached over to try and touch his hair but Martin recoiled, pulling out of reach. Angered by Dodson's boldness but also by his own inability to remain cool he quickly snapped, "Look, this isn't a reunion, I want to know about the three missing boys."

Dodson chuckled gleefully. "You're still feisty, too." He reached out again, touching his hand. "You're still that courageous little boy at heart aren't you?"

He yanked his hand away. "Forget it. I'm not playing to your sicko fantasy reunion." He glared at Dodson and said, "The only reason I'm here is to find out information on where you buried those other three boys."

"In due time," Dodson coolly replied. "I'd much rather talk about you. I've always been curious about you."

The coffee in Martin's stomach churned as he tried to deflect. "And I'm curious to know the names of those three boys."

"Really? I would think you would be curious about just one boy in particular," Dodson commented as he lifted up his glass and took a long drink, eyeing Martin over the rim of the glass.

He knew that the man was trying to bait him so he worked his jaw and bit. "Who is it?"

Dodson set the glass back down on the table. A slow smile curved up on his thin lips and he quietly said, "It was easy to confuse the two of you. You looked so much alike."

An image of Chris flashed in Martin's mind and his stomach twisted up into a tight knot. "Who?" he asked, his voice terse and even, worried that he had already correctly guessed.

"Why Chris Warner, of course," Dodson calmly replied his eyes set on Martin's face, trying to gauge his reaction.

He swallowed down the taste of bile in his mouth and shook his head. "No, you're lying. He drowned."

"Is that right? Well, I guess it's possible they believe that," he replied, casually leaning back in his chair, his gaze not once leaving Martin's face. "Of course, I'm guessing that's because they never found his body."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Next Post: Thursday, March 6, 2008


	3. Chapter 3

XoXoXoX

_I – I wish you could swim  
Like the dolphins – like dolphins can swim  
Though nothing – nothing will keep us together  
We can beat the – for ever and ever  
Oh we can be heroes – just for one day_

"Heroes" – David Bowie

XoXoXoX

Chapter 3

XoXoXoX

_They hit the water at almost the exact same time. _

_As soon as he was fully submerged, Martin opened his eyes and looked around for any sign of his friend. He spotted Chris a few feet away, looking right back at him. Their eyes met and grins crossed both their faces before they started frantically searching around for anything unusual or interesting. Unfortunately all Martin saw was water, some rocks, and more water. _

_Unable to hold his breath a moment longer he swam back to the top, breaking through the surface of the water and gasping for air. He hovered in the water, his arms snaking through the water for leverage and waited for his friend to come back up. He was certain that Chris would come back up at the same time but he was nowhere to be found. He started to panic and ducked his head back under the water, frantically searching for his friend. Needing more air he swam back to the surface and took another breath. Anxious and nervous for any sign of his best friend he took a deep breath to dive back below again when he heard Chris laughing. _

_He spun around and spotted Chris next to a large rock that was like a small island in the water. Chris laughed and said, "Man, you should have seen the look on your face!"_

"_Shut up," Martin mumbled, suddenly feeling very foolish for panicking earlier. He swam over to where his friend was and asked, "So did you see anything good?" _

"_Nope, nothing," he replied, disappointed. "You?"_

"_Nah, me either," Martin replied when he noticed Chris looking past him at something in the distance. He turned around to see what he was looking at: the other kids from camp paddling towards them, multiple voices asking questions and making statements all at once. He spotted Ricky paddling his canoe, a look of irritation on his face, most likely from disappointment at hoping that Martin was going to chicken out. _

"_What did you see?" _  
"_That was awesome!" _  
"_Was it amazing?"_

"_Well," Chris began when Martin smacked him on the arm._

"_It was only the coolest thing ever!" Martin lied, treading water. He quickly shared a look with his friend to play along. "I swear we saw the biggest fish ever, didn't we Chris?"_

_Chris hesitated for the briefest second before finally saying, "Oh, yeah, it was huge. I think its fins were bigger than my head."_

_The two friends than started to share a whale tale of a big fish that swam a few feet away from them, flashing its bulbous eyes and razor sharp teeth at them just before they swam above. Martin noted that as they shared their amazing tale that Ricky grew more and more sullen which resulted in Martin telling the story with more vigor. They were about to start describing the fish's scaly body when there were shouts off in the distance. Everyone turned and looked over to see two of the camp's counselors headed their way. _

"_Alright, break it up!" Steve Flynn, the camp counselor shouted as he and the other camp leader, Brent, paddled up in their canoe. Steve was the hard ass at the camp while Brent was the cool guy that all the boys wanted to be and all the girls had crushes on. He waved his hand around at the all the kids and shouted, "I want everyone to go back to camp right now!" They all started backing up their canoes to head back to camp, softly saying congrats to Martin and Chris before rowing away. _

_He and Chris treaded water, waiting to see what Steve was going to tell them. Everyone knew that Cayuga Cliff was off limits to all kids from the camp because of fear of injuries and lawsuits which only increased the legend's mystique and allure. _

_Steve paddled his canoe up to where they were and gave each of them a hard look as he said, "What in the he…heck were you boys thinking? You could have both broken your necks and been paralyzed for life." He glanced at Chris who remained as quiet as he did. They both tried to appear remorseful even though they both secretly knew that the fact that they got busted was only going to make this feat even more popularized in the camp. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" _

"_Um," Chris said carefully. "We're sorry and it won't happen again?"_

_Steve glared back and asked, "Is that a question or an apology?" _

"_Apology?" Martin replied. _

_Brent snickered and Steve shot him a warning look before telling the boys, "Forget it. Swim over here so you can ride back with us." _

_Martin smirked at Chris as they swam to the canoe. He reached the canoe first and swung his leg of the side and Brent pulled him over. While Brent started helping Chris, Martin looked at Steve and asked, "What about our clothes? They're still up on top."_

_Brent got Chris into the canoe and said, "I can go get them." _

_Steve sighed, as if overly burdened by the trials of being a camp counselor. "Okay, but hurry up." _

_Brent grabbed a backpack that was sitting next to him and jumped over the side of the canoe, swimming to shore. They watched as he disappeared through the trees to make his way to the top. When he was out of sight Steve opened up a duffel bag at his feet and pulled out three towels. He handed one to Chris, one to Martin and set the other one on his lap. _

"_What you boys did was incredibly stupid," Steve reprimanded as they dried off. "I should call your parents and have you both sent home." They both stopped and exchanged worried looks. The last thing either of them wanted was to go home. Sensing their fear, Steve's expression softened and he said, "But I won't." They both gave him a smile of gratitude when his face went stern again and he said, "However, there needs to be some sort of punishment. So I think that instead of going on the hike tomorrow you two are going to have to stay behind. You can do arts and crafts with Judy." _

"_But arts and crafts are for girls!" Martin protested._

"_Yeah!" Chris argued. "You cannot do that to us, it's so boring."_

"_Well you should have thought of the consequences of your actions before you decided to do something so foolish," Steve lectured. "The reason the cliff is banned is because overlooks one of the deepest bodies of water in North America. It also has an incredible strong undercurrent that can pull you down to the deep." He narrowed his eyes at them and finished, "One good current and you can be swept undertow and drown. You need to be careful!"_

_As soon as the words left his mouth they heard a loud splash nearby. _

_They all looked over to see Brent come up from under the water, in the exact same spot where he and Chris had dived earlier. He started swimming towards them, a beatific grin on his face. When he reached the canoe he pulled off the backpack and slung it over the side into the boat. _

_Martin stared at him in awe and nudged Chris with his elbow whispering, "He is so cool." _

"_Totally," he whispered back. _

_Steve cleared his throat and gave them both hard looks to quiet down. He looked at Brent and said, "Good job, Brent, you are only encouraging the boys to do more reckless things that could get them killed." _

"_Terribly sorry," Brent apologized as he climbed aboard. _

"_Whatever," Steve whined as he threw the remaining towel at Brent before picking up the paddles, giving one to Martin and the other to Chris and ordering them to start rowing. _

_The two boys began paddling back towards camp when Brent quietly said, "You know, sometimes just knowing you could do the dive is glory enough." The two boys looked at him over their shoulders and he smiled back as he finished, "Of course I've never seen anything like gigantic fish or mermaids but what I did see was cool enough for me."_

XoX

"What are you saying?" Martin asked, boring his eyes into the old man who just smiled knowingly. He felt a rage swell up inside of him and he balled his hands into tight fists so hard his knuckles went white.

"He was a lovely boy," Dodson quietly replied, his voice laced with nostalgia. "Of course, he wasn't nearly as handsome as you."

"Are you telling me that Chris didn't drown? That you kidnapped him and…" he trailed off, unable to think about it much less say the words aloud. His throat went raw and he croaked out, "Where is he now?"

"I don't want to talk about him right now," Dodson replied, giving him an amused smile that Martin wanted to rip off his smug face. "I want to talk about you."

"What did you do with Chris?" Martin asked again through gritted teeth, feeling his control slipping. He felt an incredible urge to inflict great bodily harm on the old man but inside his head he heard Jack's voice reminding him to remain in control.

"And I said I don't want to talk about him," Dodson said again, sounding annoyed by Martin's persistent questioning.

"Why not?" he argued, using every ounce of self-restraint that he still possessed to squelch his anger down deep. "Isn't he the whole reason I am here talking to you today?"

"No, Marty, you are the reason I am here today," he replied, wounded. "I knew the moment I saw your face on the news that it was a sign."

"A sign of what?"

"A sign that you and I are connected and it was time for you to understand just how much." Dodson reached out to touch his hand again only to have Martin flinch and pull it away. "It has always gnawed at me that I had to settle for Chris when you were the one I wanted."

"You settled for Chris?" Martin growled back. "You killed my best friend and you have the audacity to tell me that you settled for him?"

Dodson seemed to grow even more excited and he smiled perversely. "Look at those blue eyes; so fiery and passionate. This is why you are my biggest regret. You're the only one who I wanted but didn't get," he licked his lips, "to know."

"You want to know what I know?" he said, standing up so abruptly that his chair wobbled behind him and fell back. He stared down menacingly at the man in front of him. "I know you are a disgusting and disturbed man. I know that I'm going to make sure you pay and that every prisoner you meet in your very near future knows all about you. I guarantee that you will hurt far more than you can possibly imagine."

"That's right, tell me how you are going to make me suffer," Dodson replied, practically drooling with excitement.

He darted straight at him, grabbing him by the shirt and demanding, "Where is he?"

"That's enough," Jack ordered as the door to the interview room swung open. He walked over to Martin and pulled him off of Dodson, quickly ushering him towards the door. "This interview is officially over."

"But we haven't finished talking yet," Dodson replied.

"It is as far as Agent Fitzgerald is concerned," Kyle said as he stepped into the room.

Jack was still trying to shove a very resistant Martin to the door when he looked at Dodson and said, "The deal was if you met him he would tell us about the other three boys."

"But I wasn't done talking yet," Dodson objected, abruptly standing up.

Kyle stormed over to where Dodson stood and pushed him back down onto his chair. He glowered at the old man and said, "If you want to keep talking you have to give us the location of Chris' body."

Martin and Jack stopped at the door and stared over at Dodson, waiting with bated breath to see what he was going to say. For the first time since they met he saw a worried look crossed Dodson's face. Sensing an opportunity, Martin shrugged free from Jack's grip.

"It's okay," he said as calmly as he could muster. "I just lost my temper but I'm okay now." He walked back over to the table and stared down at Dodson. "If you want to talk to me," he felt queasy at just knowing what he was about to say, "so you can get to know me than you have to give me a reason to stick around. Tell me where I can find Chris."

"I don't want to talk about Chris," Dodson adamantly replied before his demeanor softened and he added, "But I will talk to you about Kevin."

"Kevin who?" Jack asked.

"No, I do not want to talk to anyone but Marty," Dodson insisted, his attention focused solely on Martin. "That was the agreement."

Both agents looked at him and Martin nodded his head as he said, "I'll be fine."

Kyle studied him for a beat before looking over at Dodson. He pointed at the old man and warned, "I'll be watching."

He exited the room but Jack hesitated, giving him a long evaluating look. Martin stared back at him silently pleading for him to keep going, his eyes promising that he will keep his emotions in check. He knew Jack was worried that this was going to be too much for him, the situation too personal but he also knew that Jack mixed his emotions into their cases all the time so if anyone would understand it would be him. At last, Jack narrowed his eyes at him before silently nodding his head and stepping out of the room.

As soon as they left Martin righted his fallen chair and sat down opposite of Dodson. He steadied his nerves and met the old man's eyes. "Tell me about Kevin."

"I meant what I said," Dodson replied, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. "I will tell you about all three boys but I want you to talk to me, tell me about yourself."

"Fine," he agreed. As desperate as he was to find out more about Chris he knew he had to play along. Dodson came with a preplanned agenda and he was just going to have to follow it. "I'll go first. Where can we find Kevin?"

"That's not very fair," Dodson criticized. "If I give up all my information on the first question than why would you stay? Ask me something else."

Martin acquiesced and changed gears. "What is Kevin's last name?"

"That's better but sadly I don't recall. I think it started with a H." He smiled and then refocused on Martin. "You never went back to camp. Why?"

Martin processed the information that Dodson admitted to being aware that he had never returned to Camp Cayuga. It was more than a single mistake over one summer confusing two friends; Dodson had a connection to the camp. He narrowed his eyes at the man and tried to mentally place him in the camp's setting but drew a blank.

"After Chris died I didn't see the point. It felt wrong," he replied truthfully. The feeling of loss returning to him as fresh today as it was then. He cleared his throat trying to shake off the emotion and asked, "Where did you meet Kevin?"

"New Jersey. I can still remember that the first time I saw Kevin he was riding a blue bike," Dodson began, his eyes getting a dreamy look as he recalled the memory. "I remember the color of his bike because it was the same color as his eyes." He sighed wistfully and then asked, "Where did you spend the following summer?"

"I was in the Senator Shadow Program," Martin promptly answered. The question was easy since he had no emotion attached to that memory. It was quite possibly one of the most non-memorable summers he ever had experienced. It involved fetching coffee, making copies, and pretending to laugh at the Senator's lame jokes. It also backfired against his parents since it also cinched him never wanting to go into politics. He started to slowly feel some of his control return as he asked, "Where in New Jersey?"

"Newark," he replied with the distasteful look of a seasoned New Yorker. He propped his chin on his fist and in the curious tone asked, "Senator Shadow Program? That sounds impressive. Did you shadow a senator from New York or New Jersey?"

"Virginia." He straightened his posture in response to Dodson's relaxed pose. He felt it necessary to be in contradiction to the man. "What year did you take Kevin?"

Dodson bit his cheek and Martin could see him debating on whether or not to be honest. In the end he relented and replied, "1985."

Martin shifted in his seat, resisting the urge to glance at the one-way mirror. He knew that so far Jack and Kyle had enough information to try and confirm the details. As soon as they did he knew they would come fetch him, giving him a much needed reprieve from Dodson.

"My turn," Dodson said. "Where did you grow up?"

"We moved around a lot when I was young," Martin replied. "We lived in Boston, Baltimore, Ohio, and Virginia." He worked his jaw as he considered his next question. "What about you, where did you live back in 1985? Where do you live now?"

"That's two questions," Dodson said with a smile. "But I'll overlook it since you gave me such a thorough answer about yourself." He leaned back in his chair again. "I've always considered Lake Naomi to be my home." He went quiet and Martin felt the tendons in his neck tense up, wondering what the next question was going to be. "So you traveled pretty far for summer camp. Why?"

"I usually spent my summers at my aunt and uncle in Long Island so my parents wanted me to be at a camp near family," he replied, straightening the cuff of his sleeve. His knee started to bounce impatiently up and down, anxious for Jack or Kyle to interrupt. He knew that he needed to start asking questions he wasn't so sure he was ready to hear the answers to. "Why Kevin?"

A slow smile curved up onto Dodson's lips. "Now we are getting to the heart of the matter aren't we?"

"Is that my answer or your next question?"

His grin expanded. "Just an observation." He released a heavy sigh and said, "I was drawn to Kevin for the same reason I was drawn to you. He had that spark that so many of my boys had, that aura of confidence and vitality. Fearlessness if you will. Some men prefer docile, shy boys but not me. I like a boy who is vivacious and alive, a real fighter."

"Did Chris fight?" Martin asked, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth.

There was a long pause and he worried that Dodson wasn't going to tell him.

"Wouldn't you have?" Dodson said at last.

Martin opened his mouth to reply when the interview room door opened and Jack, who was holding a folder, entered with another agent.

"Martin," Jack said simply as he motioned for him to stand up and exit. He looked over at Dodson and said, "I need to speak with Agent Fitzgerald in private."

Dodson smiled. "You mean you've confirmed that I am telling the truth about Kevin and you want to talk about it."

Martin and Jack shared a look before the senior agent replied, "Just stay put." He gestured for the other agent to stand guard and the two men exited the interview room.

Once they were in the hall, he and Jack walked over and stood in front of the two-way mirror to see Dodson staring back.

"Did you confirm the story about Kevin?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," Jack replied grimly, handing Martin the folder. "Thirteen year old Kevin Hardon disappeared from Branch Brook Park in April of 1985. He was never found."

Martin studied the photo of a young boy with sandy brown hair and big blue eyes; features that looked a lot like his; and a lot like Chris'. "So he is telling the truth."

"It appears so."

He glanced over at Dodson who was plucked a piece of lint from his shirt sleeve and flicked it into the air looking unconcerned about being left alone. With his gaze fixed on the elderly man he softly whispered, "Which means he and I have a lot more talking to do."

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I'm not sure when I will post next but I am shooting for Sunday, March 9, 2008. And as always, thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

XoXoXoX

_Thought you had all the answers_  
_To rest your heart upon_  
_But something happens_  
_Don't see it coming_.  
_You can't stop yourself_  
_Now you're out there swimming_  
_In the deep_

"In the Deep" – Bird York

XoXoXoX

Chapter 4

XoXoXoX

"_I'm telling you they've gotten bigger since last summer," Chris whispered._

_Martin shifted his gaze from the window where he had been staring longingly at the beautiful bright blue sky outside to where Chris sat beside him. They were stuck in a stale smelling cabin their penance in Arts and Crafts._

"_What?" he asked since he hadn't really been listening. _

"_Casey Winters'," Chris said, a look of irritable exasperation on his face. "Her…" he cradled his hands in front of his shirt, "Her boobs."_

_While Martin spent his time wishing he were outside rather than concentrating on how to properly weave a dream catcher, Chris interests clearly laid elsewhere. Namely the most recent developments on certain girls at camp and most notably the growth spurt that Casey Winters seemed to have experienced since the previous year. _

"_I guess," Martin replied with a shrug. _

_He returned his attention to his dream catcher, tying a piece of string to the frame. He curled his toes up away from the sole of his sneakers trying to keep his socks dry. His sneakers were still moist from yesterday. He knew he should have left them on the porch to finish drying but he couldn't find one of his flip-flops so he'd rather walk around in damp shoes than go barefoot. _

"_I have been watching Casey for years and I can guarantee you that she did not have those last summer," Chris insisted, his eyes focused perky blonde girl, scrutinizing the shape of her t-shirt. _

_Chris had been harboring a crush on Casey for the last two summers and was constantly aware of any changes to her physique. While Martin thought Casey was nice enough he didn't see the appeal. She was always sporting the latest fashion trends, talked a lot, and was a gum popper. She may have been cute but he thought she was more loud and annoying than anything else. _

"_You're not even really checking," Chris whined, knocking him in the arm. "Just look over there and tell me what you think."_

_Martin could care less about Casey but being a good friend he looked over to examine the shape of her torso. She stood up and leaned over to grab something from the other side of her table and that was when he noticed that her chest had indeed increased in size. He found himself actually get a little thrill at the sight of her and replied, "I think you're right."_

_They were gawking at the visible evidence of Casey's transition into womanhood when a girl Martin didn't recognize tapped her on the arm, whispered something in her ear and pointed over at them. Casey's eyes darted in their direction and they both immediately dropped their heads and focused on their work. _

_With his eyes on his own dream catcher, which at this point looked more like the work of a drunken spider with knotted up threads that crisscrossed a circle, he whispered to Chris, "Are they still watching?"_

"_I don't know," he replied, his fingers slowly moving around the beads and feathers that sat on their table trying to appear busy at work. "You look first and tell me."_

"_I don't want to look," Martin adamantly replied. "We were totally…"_

"_Busted?" They looked up to find both Casey and the girl informant standing in front of them, wily smiles on both their faces. Martin could feel his face go hot when Casey leaned in to the both of them and said, "Hi." _

"_Uh, hi?" Chris stammered out while Martin could only manage a small wave. _

"_You don't mind if I join you do you?" Casey asked, not bothering to wait for a reply as she sat down on the bench opposite of them. She motioned for her friend to join her and waved her hand between the two of them. "This is Martin Fitzgerald and Chris Warner." She gestured to the girl who looked wary about sitting down with them and introduced, "Guys, this is Sarah Miller."_

"_Hi," they both mumbled out at the same time. _

"_Hello," she greeted them softly before sitting down next to Casey and directly across from him. _

_Sarah was short with an athletic build and long straight brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. She had sweet face with soft pink cheeks and wide brown eyes that reminded him of a puppy. _

"_I've never seen you before," Martin blurted, immediately regretting how accusatory it sounded. _

"_This is her first summer," Casey interjected before Sarah could answer. Martin noticed that she was chewing gum as she talked, loudly snapping it between her teeth. He cringed inwardly and suddenly understood why his mom hated gum chewers, saying it reminded her of a horse chomping on a carrot. "She usually goes to a gymnastics camp but she hurt her ankle so she couldn't go this summer."_

"_I thought you normally hung out with Tiffany," Chris asked, ignoring Sarah and completely focusing on Casey._

"_Tiffany's parents got a divorce so they couldn't afford to send her this summer," she replied matter-of-factly. She gave them a beatific grin and said, "I heard about what you guys did yesterday."_

"_You did?" Chris replied, a wide proud grin on his face. _

_Casey toyed with her bracelet, twisting it around her wrist as she nodded. "Oh yeah, everyone's talking about it." She paused to blow a bubble before popping it and finishing, "You guys are like total legends now."_

"_So you were the ones who dived off the cliff?" Sarah asked with her gaze fixed on Martin's. _

"_Yup," he boasted, still feeling the high of being a camp celebrity. He just hoped that as the new kid she wouldn't be too put off at being in such close proximity to one of the most popular boys at camp right now. He decided to play it humble and told her, "It was no big deal."_

"_We saw some killer stuff," Chris bragged. Martin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and saw him wagging his eyebrows at Casey. He knew that his friend was trying to impress her. _

_And Casey seemed to be falling for it as she asked, "Like what?"_

_Both Martin and Chris took turns recounting the story they created the day before, with each telling the story grew to epic proportions. The fish got bigger, the water got deeper and the cliff was higher. Martin also noticed that in this version Chris managed to make the jump seem much more perilous and how close he came to drowning. He also noticed that Casey seemed to completely buy into it, her eyes wide with worry and awe as he spoke. _

_When they were done Casey gasped, her mouth so wide Martin could see the wad of pink gum resting on her tongue. "Wow. That is totally incredible. You guys are so brave."_

_Both he and Chris nodded in agreement when Sarah's soft sotto voice asked, "What color was the fish?" _

"_What?" he asked; startled by the question that he had not prepared an answer for._

_She studied him with scrutiny and asked again, "What color was the fish that you guys claim you saw?"_

_He shared a look with Chris and replied, "Red," at the same time that Chris said it was orange. They exchanged a panicked look and Martin quickly corrected, "It was reddish orange."_

"_It was reddish orange?" Sarah asked, eyeing him skeptically. _

"_Um, yeah," he mumbled, averting his eyes as he suddenly felt exposed as a liar. _

_She raised an eyebrow. "That's an odd color. Most fish are more blue or green or even a sort of brown." _

"_Well, that's what makes it so amazing," Martin replied, his knee bouncing up and down nervously under the table. _

_Sarah just nodded her head slowly, giving him a long quiet evaluating look but not asking any more questions. _

"_Hey, do you guys want some pop rocks?" Casey asked, completely oblivious to the little exchange between Sarah and him. She held up the little black packet expectantly. They all outstretched their hands and she poured a small amount of the little rock candy into their palms. _

_Martin immediately tossed the candy into his mouth and they crackled and fizzed on his tongue. It was quiet between all of them save for the popping sound of the candy. He looked over at Sarah who was watching him carefully and he wondered what it was about this girl that made him feel like him feel like he was standing in front of her in nothing but his underwear. _

XoXoXoX

Martin stood at the far wall of the bullpen and stared at the two photos clipped onto the whiteboard. The first photo was of Kevin Hardon smiling at the camera, a hopeful glint in his blue eyes. It was sad to think that only three weeks after this school portrait had been taken Kevin disappeared never to be seen or heard from again.

His gaze shifted to the next photo and it was this one that causes his heart to squeeze tight within his chest. He studied the grainy printout photo of his childhood best friend. Since Chris was never declared a missing child they had to use a photo that was used in a newspaper article chronicling the search for his body in Cayuga Lake. Not that Martin needed a photograph to remind him what his beloved childhood best friend looked like. Chris' face was forever seared into his memory where he lived on, perpetually 14 years old.

His throat constricted with grief and guilt at knowing that he was the reason that Chris was killed. Maybe not directly but just knowing that he was the intended target was cause enough to feel culpable in his best friend's death. And it made him that much more determined to bring him home.

"The team is on their way," Jack's voice softly announced.

Martin turned around to see Jack watching him, his arms folded across his barrel chest. Earlier Jack said that he thought it might be a good time to take a break from talking to Dodson so they could process the information he provided and proceed from there. While Martin knew the true intention was to give him a break from having to talk to Dodson he pretended to go along with it. It had only been an hour since his conversation with Dodson and he was already feeling a little better knowing that the old man was locked up in a holding cell, far from Martin.

He slowly walked up to where Jack stood and asked, "What did you tell them?"

He knew that he should have called Sam himself but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could barely wrap his own head around all that had happened in the last few hours much less have to explain it to someone else. Besides, it felt good to have some time alone to digest it all.

"Enough," he replied. They shared a knowing look before he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"As well as could be expected," he replied, his gaze drifting to the windows. The sky was blue and lavender marking the start of a new day. "This is just so surreal." He shook his head, lowering his eyes. "I don't know how to process it all."

"You're doing really well with him," Jack said encouragingly.

"Thanks I guess," he replied tiredly.

"You got him to tell us the names of two of the boys."

"We have names but we aren't any closer to figuring out where he took them," Martin said, frustrated.

"Just remember he's here because he wants to tell us," he replied as he walked up and stood alongside Martin. The two men stood side by side as they stared out the window watching as the sun rose over the city. Jack sighed heavily and softly said, "I meant what I said, Martin, if he is getting to you, it's okay to walk away and let me and Kyle take over."

"You wouldn't walk away, why would I?" he said quietly, shaking his head. "Besides, even if I wanted to I couldn't. I owe Chris that much."

Jack nodded quietly and then gently said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

Martin didn't reply, he simply nodded his head and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands.

"You've been up all night," Jack observed. "You should go home and get some rest."

Martin waved him off. "No, I need to be here right now. I'll be okay."

He could see Jack warring on whether or not to believe him but he had the good sense to know it wouldn't be any use. Martin was staying put. So he gave him a small nod and said, "I'm going to try getting a hold of the agent in charge in New Jersey and see what he can send us about Kevin's disappearance."

He nodded and jerked his chin towards his desk. "I'm just going to finish seeing what I can pull up on Chris."

Jack gave him one more nod before turning and walking back to his office. Martin watched as he disappeared around the corner before sighing heavily and refocusing his attention to his computer monitor.

While he knew the details of his friend's death through what his parents and Aunt Bonnie told him he had never, not once, thought to look up the actual police report. Just knowing that his friend was gone from his life forever was all he needed to know – until today.

He walked over to his desk, pulled out his chair and sat down. On the screen was a copy of the initial police report about Chris' disappearance. He rubbed his eyes one more time and then began reading through the details. Steve Flynn was the one who reported Chris missing. In his statement, Chris had disappeared sometime after breakfast. There was a torrential rainstorm that afternoon so regular camp activities were altered and the kids were ordered to either stay in their cabins or they could participate in some indoor games at the main cabin. Since the day wasn't as structured as normal, no one thought twice about where Chris was until dinner came and went and there was still no sign of him.

All of the campers were ordered to return to their cabins for roll call and when Chris was still MIA the counselors were ordered to search the area. Brent was the one who noticed a canoe was missing. Steve contacted local police and park rangers and they set boats out onto the water. A local ranger found a discarded canoe floating in the water, set adrift by the rain. After another search of the lakeshore they found one of Chris' discarded sneakers. It was decided that Chris attempted to dive off the cliff solo but with the rain runoff, he was pulled undertow and drowned. They dragged the lake for three days before calling off the search.

It was the idea of Chris swimming alone that made no sense to Martin. While the two boys were reckless at times, jumping off cliffs, hiking off trail, or taking a canoe without permission they always, always did it together. He could see Chris taking the canoe out for a solo ride but he knew his friend would never go swimming much less diving without telling someone.

No way.

And then he wondered if that was how Dodson was able to get Chris. Did he grab him from the campgrounds, drug him, drag him into a canoe and take him across the river? Maybe Dodson had a car waiting on the other side and was able to load Chris unseen. Then he could pull off a shoe, toss it onto the ground and push the canoe into open water, distracting anyone looking for Chris? How was this man able to get the best of his friend who was certain would have fought him off tooth and nail if he were in any danger. He knew that Chris would have kicked, punched, scratched, pulled, and struggled with every ounce of energy he possessed. He knew this because that is exactly what he would have done, had Dodson gotten him as originally planned.

Martin ran his hands over his face and felt a sudden need to do something else. He grabbed his spare toiletry bag from his desk drawer and headed to the bathroom. If he was going to face a new day, he might as well look like he was ready.

He entered the empty restroom and walked over to the bank of sinks. He dropped his bag on the counter and removed his jacket, setting it carefully on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. He turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on his face, waking up. He reached over and unzipped the small black bag fishing out his toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste. He squeezed out a dollop of the mint green gel onto the white bristles remembering what it was like to have to conduct his daily absolutions at camp.

They had to share the communal bathroom where the water was never hot for long. He and Chris would often try and make a game of it, competing to see who could shower the fastest. Eventually they made it a competition to not only see who could bathe the quickest but also brush their teeth, get dressed and out to the mess hall for breakfast. No matter how hard he tried Chris would always beat him. He suspected that Chris was skipping out on something, either brushing his teeth or washing his hair, but he could never prove it.

When he was done brushing his teeth he capped the toothpaste and put the toothbrush back in its plastic case. He examined his reflection again and ran his hand along his stubble. He needed to shave. He pulled out his electric razor and clicked it on, whirring it to life. He tilted his head to the side and brought the razor to the side of his face when a long forgotten memory of Chris washed over him.

XoX

"_How can you not see them?" Chris repeated with emphasis. He pointed to his upper lip and insistently said, "They're right there!"_

_Martin squinted and leaned in close, studying the area. "Seriously, I don't see anything."_

_All morning they had been in a heated argument on whether or not the mustache Chris insisted he had actually existed. Chris claimed that he had grown a few hairs just above his upper lip but if they were there they were invisible to the naked eye. _

"_What do you know?" Chris snapped back as he returned to examining his face in the mirror. _

_The two boys were constantly vigilant about any hair growth. They couldn't wait until the day they could start growing facial hair since it was one of the great rites of passage into manhood. Chris had already declared himself a Gillette man while Martin thought he might use a shaver like his dad. His father had an antique shaver set complete with the heavy base unit and matching brush. It didn't look easy to use but it was fascinating to watch his dad methodically shave every morning as if it were a ceremonial process. _

"_Just you wait, Martin," Chris replied, stepping away from the mirror and facing him. "Next summer I am going to be shaving everyday." He ran his hand along his cheek. "Hell, maybe I will just grow a beard."_

_Martin stifled a laugh. "Whatever you say, Magnum P.I."_

XoX

Martin finished shaving and with sad, tired eyes he dropped his razor back into the bag and zipped it closed. He studied his reflection in the mirror satisfied that he looked presentable, if exhausted. He rested both his hands on the edge of the counter, stared at his mirror image, studying his reflection. He wondered if he and Chris would still look alike today. Would they still know each other or would they have drifted apart as many friends do? Would Chris have plowed his own path or become a doctor like his parents? If they remained friends how different would Martin's life been as a result? Would he have chosen a different college? Chosen a different career? Lived an entirely different life?

He shook his head, shaking off those thoughts. It didn't matter what might have been, there was only what is. And the reason Martin was here today, grown up and in the FBI was because a sick psychopath murdered his friend and at this moment, it was up to him to find his friend.

He tucked the black bag under his arm and exited the bathroom. He started down the hallway when he spotted a very familiar blonde agent standing against the wall waiting for him.

"Hey," Sam greeted him with a small sad smile. She reached out and gently took one of his hands in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined fingers. "You must really feel sorry for me to hold my hand in the office."

Her smile faded; the subject of being recently outed as a couple in the office was still a bit of a sore spot between them. She sighed and asked, "How are you doing?"

"Just trying to get through this," he breathed out.

"Jack said he's impressed by how well you're keeping it together," she commented, giving him an encouraging look. "None of us can even imagine what you must be going through."

"You've all had a chance to talk about me?" He forced a grin on his face as his eyes darted to the bathroom and he asked, "Exactly how long was I in there?"

She gave him a sheepish smile. "It's good to see your sense of humor is still intact." She squeezed his hand and said, "I'm here if you want to talk okay?"

He squeezed back and softly replied, "Okay."

She met his eyes and just seeing her look at him with such compassion filled him up with something he didn't realize he didn't have when he was talking to Dodson earlier: hope. Hope that everything really was going to be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

XoXoXoX

_Hey you, you lost your only friend  
You can't believe your broken heart will ever mend  
But every mountain has its faces that'd make you want to stop  
On this so unwelcome journey from the bottom to the top._

"Something Beautiful" – Great Big Sea

XoXoXoX

Chapter 5

XoXoXoX

_Martin narrowed his eyes at the target, aimed, released and missed. He watched as his arrow flew through the air before stabbing a nearby shrub. He released a frustrated grunt when behind him he heard Chris snicker._

"_Bullet the blue sky, eh Marty?" Chris joked. _

"_It's an arrow not a bullet, dumb ass," he replied, while his words may have been harsh his tone was humorous. He hid his smile at Chris' U2 reference. It was a game the two friends had been playing for years; trying to interject a song title or lyric into everyday conversation. He scanned his mind for a song title to bounce back but nothing came to mind so he just walked back to the small table and grabbed another arrow. "This sucks, I can shoot an air rifle better than anyone I know but this archery thing," he shook his head, "I just can't get it right."_

"_My turn," Chris announced as he snagged the bow and arrow and stepped up to shoot._

"_Shoot that poison arrow," Martin quipped, feeling pleased with himself at finally coming up with a song title._

_Chris paused and looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "A pop song by ABC? Lame!" Martin just laughed, knowing it was still a legit answer. He shook his head and said, "Now be quiet and allow me to show you how it should be done."_

_He watched as Chris held the bow carefully, his left arm outstretched and his right bent as he skillfully pulled back the string. He released his arrow and it streamed through the air, piercing the target smack in the blue zone. _

_He gave Martin a cocky smile and swaggered back over to the table. "Of course you'll never be as bad ass as me."_

_Martin scrunched up his face and mocked, "Dumb ass, bad ass, either way you're still an ass."_

_Chris shot him a dirty look but Martin just chuckled and stepped up to shoot again. He started to set his arrow when he heard a scattering of laughter nearby. He looked down the row of archers to see Brent showing some younger campers how to shoot. _

"_Just think, next year we're going to be counselors just like Brent." Chris said as he stood next to Martin, both watching as the camp counselor demonstrated how to properly hold a bow and arrow while all the young campers watched him riveted. _

"_My folks were pissed when I told them that I wanted to be a counselor," Martin quietly admitted. He watched as a Brent waved a little boy forward, angling his arms around the kid to show him how to stand when aiming. "They were hoping that I would join the Senator Shadow program."_

"_Of course they do," Chris teased. He balled his hand into a fist and pretended to use it as a microphone, holding it towards Martin. "So tell me, Senator Fitzgerald, what is your stance on the Iran Contra affair? Are Ollie North and President Reagan running a sham on the good citizens of these United States?" _

"_Shut up," he replied with a steely glare before turning and firing his arrow. This time he managed to hit the target in the white area. It was the outermost part of the target but it was a hit. He smiled and handed Chris the bow. "Your turn." Chris walked back up and aimed while he grabbed another arrow, testing its dexterity by bending the shaft. He tossed it back on the table and picked up another one. "What about your parents?"_

"_What about them?" Chris bounced back as he shot again, this time his arrow hit the red._

_Deeming the arrow worthy, he twisted in between his fingers like a baton. "Are they excited about you becoming a counselor?"_

_Chris shrugged and gave him back the bow. "I think they're too busy thinking about other stuff right now."_

"_What do you mean?" he asked as he accepted the bow but making no move to shoot. _

"_They've just been fighting a lot lately," Chris replied, fiddling with an arrow. His gaze focused on the chattering nearby. "I actually think they might get a divorce."_

"_Really?" Martin asked, surprised. He didn't really know Chris' parents but they were always mild mannered and agreeable. _

"_I don't know," his friend breathed out, finally looking over at him. "They've been acting really anxious and distracted lately and when they dropped me off at camp they seemed really excited that I wasn't going to be home for the summer. It was the first time in months they actually got along. I know they thought they were making me feel better but it just made me nervous."_

"_Maybe you're just being paranoid. Parents fight all the time," Martin replied. Divorce was not a common occurrence in his world. While he was often at odds with his own parents they were clearly a united force. While his father wasn't openly affectionate with him it was very clear how much he adored Martin's mother. "I'm sure they're fine."_

_Chris looked at him like he was naïve but managed a queasy smile and said, "Yeah, maybe you're right."_

_Wanting to lighten the mood he playfully punched his friend in the arm. "I bet they were just happy to get you out of the house so they could be alone to get busy." _

"_That's gross," Chris said with a grimace before offering up a genuine smile. "You think?"_

"_Trust me, don't stress about it. It's going to be alright," Martin reassured before stepping up to shoot. He lifted the bow up when he heard a scattering of girlish laughter._

_He glanced down past a few other groups to see Casey with a few other girls from the camp. They were chatting animatedly as they watched Brent show his group the best stance for releasing a bow. He could see Casey blowing bubbles, the pale pink bubble inflating through her lips before popping around her mouth when Sarah appeared. _

_She moved past the girls, ignoring their chatter and stepped up to the firing range, her gaze fixed on the target. She looked like a fierce warrior with her hair tied back in two French braids and an intense look of concentration on her face. She pulled back the arrow and sent it streaming through the air to hit the target dead center in the yellow zone. She smiled to herself and started to turn around when she suddenly looked over at him, her big brown eyes meeting his blue. He felt his face go hot as he nervously turned away, pretending to focus on his archery. He pulled back and released his arrow, sending it through the air, past the target and disappearing through the trees. He grunted in embarrassment and looked over to see Sarah give him an amused smile. _

"_Man, you are seriously screwing up today," Chris commented, apparently oblivious to the exchange between Martin and Sarah. "It's like you don't even see the target." _

"_Sun's in my eyes," he lied, walking back to the table. _

"_Where's your baseball cap?" Chris asked as he took the bow. _

"_Can't find it," Martin replied as he stole a quick glance in Sarah's direction and saw that she was gone. He looked around and saw her walking with Casey and the other girls back towards the cabins. He didn't know what it was about this girl that made him so feel so awkward and foolish but something inside him told him it might be worth finding out. _

XoXoX

"I'm going to get some more coffee, you want any?" Danny asked as he stood up.

He looked up from reading the notes on Kevin's disappearance and replied, "Nah, I'm alright. Thanks."

Martin and Danny had been working on any information that could be gathered regarding Kevin's disappearance as well as that of any other boys with similar features who went missing from 1980 through 1998. Meanwhile, Vivian and Samantha were working on Dodson's background. So far no one was having any luck.

Danny took a step before pausing, looking back at him and asking, "You sure?"

Martin shook his head.

"Maybe a donut?"

He shook his head again.

"A Coke?"

"Nope," he replied.

"A candy bar?"

"No thanks," he relied. Danny nodded and Martin could see him start to open his mouth to ask him if he wanted something else so he decided to just give up and quickly blurted, "You know what a cup of coffee would be great. Thanks."

"Cup of coffee, I'm on it," Danny replied with a big grin. He turned around to head to the break room and over his shoulder he said, "I'll be right back."

He watched the lanky Latino agent head down the hall and shook his head. He knew that this was Danny's way of trying to be supportive and helpful but as it endearing as it was at first after awhile it was starting to grate on his nerves.

"He's just trying to show you he's there for you," Sam said softly beside him.

He looked over at her and said, "I just wish everyone would just stop treating me like I was fragile."

"We're just trying to show you we care," she replied as she reached over and placed her hand on top of his. She grinned, patted the top of his hand and added, "So drink your coffee and deal with it."

"There's the Sam I know," he quipped, sharing an amused look with the blonde agent.

"Ahem," Vivian interrupted. They both looked over to see her giving them that wily smile that she had had on her face since finding out that they were dating. It only lasted for a split second before her expression went somber again and she said, "I think I figured out why we haven't been able to find anything on Richard Dodson."

"Why's that?" Jack asked as he walked into the bullpen with Kyle. Martin noted that Kyle was wearing the same suit but different shirt. He wondered if Jack had changed too but seeing as how he always wore the same outfit combination of a black suit and white shirt it was impossible to know for sure.

"You said that he told Martin that he considered Lake Naomi to be his home," she replied, resting against the table. "I couldn't find any info on Richard Dodson but I delved a little further and found a listing for Dick Dodd who passed on a year and a half ago."

Martin sighed heavily, dropping his pen onto the table. "So he gave us a fake name."

"Not quite," Viv replied. She handed him the piece of paper she had been holding. "When he died he left his cabin to his son, Travis Dodd."

He looked at the paper which was a printout of a New York State Drivers License. The man in the photo was undoubtedly the man who had been telling him his name was Richard Dodson. "So our guy is actually Travis Dodd, son of Dick Dodd." He handed the paper to Jack and added, "Dodd's son. Clever."

Jack studied the paper and his expression mirrored that of Martin's frustration.

"Why would he use an alias if he's confessing?" Sam asked. "He had to know we were going to figure it out."

"He's stalling," Jack replied as he handed her the paper. "He wanted to keep Martin talking for as long as possible." He looked at him and asked, "Is the name ringing any bells?"

"No," Martin breathed out, wishing it did.

Jack nodded and looked at Viv. "Anything else?"

"He was born in Connecticut but his last known address is in New Rochelle." She stood up and added, "I've already sent in the request for a search warrant and it should be ready by the time I get there."

"Take Danny," Jack directed. She nodded and walked back to her desk to get her things.

"Take me where?" Danny asked as he entered the bullpen carrying two coffees. He placed one in front of Martin and listened as Jack caught him up to date. He nodded and looked over at Viv, "Let's roll, Vivalina."

"I'm going, too," Kyle announced as he and Jack entered the bullpen. He looked at Jack and said, "I'd like to see his home, maybe I can find some clue about what he did with the boys' bodies."

Jack nodded in agreement.

"Let's head out," Viv replied with a nod. She gently patted Martin on the back as she walked past to exit the bullpen with Kyle and Danny.

"Well, this explains why I couldn't find anything on Richard Dodson's financial history," Samantha said as she stood up and gathered the files she was reviewing. "I'll start working on Travis Dodd."

She walked back to her desk when Jack looked at Martin and asked, "Any luck finding leads on Kevin?"

"No," Martin quietly replied. "At least no more than what we already knew from his case report. He was riding his bike to meet some friends at the park when he just disappeared." He met Jack's eyes and said, "I'm wasting time here. I should be talking to him and just let him give me the answers. We know he wants to talk so we might as well let him."

"I'd like to switch it up," Jack said.

"What do you mean?"

"I think this is our chance to put a little pressure on him," Jack replied, leaning forward and gripping the back of a chair. "I'd like to talk to him myself first."

Martin stared at him accusatorially. "You don't think I can handle it?"

"That's not it," Jack calmly replied. "I just think that his whole deal in talking to you was to tell us useful information and since we caught him a lie we can use this to our advantage. I'd like to try and turn the tables on him."

Martin worked his jaw considering before replying, "Alright." He pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call and have Dodson…sorry, Dodd, brought up."

A short while later he and Jack made their way to the interview rooms. They paused to study Dodd through the window. He looked well rested, as if he spent the time since he and Martin had last talked to sleep and eat. The only indication that he had been here all night was his wrinkled clothing but other than that he seemed refreshed and alert; and entirely too pleased with himself.

"Wait here," Jack ordered before stepping around the corner to the door to the interview room. Martin clicked on the intercom and folded his arms, watching as Jack entered the interview room.

"Where's Martin?" Dodd asked, looking behind Jack.

"The terms of our agreement were that he would only talk if he was going to get the truth from Richard Dodson," Jack coolly said as he sat down. "There was no agreement to talk to Travis Dodd."

"I'm impressed," Dodd replied as he lips curved up into a slow dark grin. "I thought I'd have you going in circles for a little while longer."

While Martin couldn't see Jack's expression he saw his shoulders tense up. "That fact that you lied doesn't surprise us. What does is why you think I'd allow you to keep talking to Martin after finding out. How can we believe a word you are saying?"

"How can you afford not to?" Dodd replied with a smile so big that Martin could see the man's small yellow tobacco stained teeth. Dodd shifted his gaze from Jack and stared directly at the one-way mirror. With a self-satisfied look he coolly inquired, "Martin, shall we pick up where we left off?"

"No, the agreement was you would tell the truth. You've given us two lies that you freely admitted to," Jack interrupted, his voice low and threatening. "You cannot talk to Agent Fitzgerald until we can verify that anything you have been telling us is true."

"I told you about Kevin," Dodd replied, perturbed. "I know you have enough to verify that much."

"You didn't tell us anymore than we already knew from his missing person's report," Jack replied in a tone that Martin recognized from watching him conduct countless interviews.

Dodd shifted in his seat and leaned forward, his gazed fixed on Jack. "I can tell you more. I could tell you what I remember the day I first spotted Kevin." Martin saw Dodd tilt his head to the side, eerily calm as he kept his eyes still trained on Jack's face. "He was riding his bike along the river on a beautiful spring day. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom making the world as rich and colorful as a painting. He looked so enticing. He had this air of invincibility and optimism. He was wearing blue jeans and a red t-shirt and I knew right then and there I needed to have him," Dodd said in a soft lilting voice.

"And?"

He sat upright and said, "No more until I see Martin."

"You didn't tell us any more than we already know," Jack replied evenly. "Everyone knows about the cherry blossoms that time of year and what he was wearing. We need something solid and until you give it to me, you aren't saying a goddamn word to Agent Fitzgerald."

He went quiet, staring intently at the mirror. "Marty, we had a deal."

"There will be no more one on ones until you tell us what we need to know," Jack gruffly said. "I want to know where Kevin or Chris is right now."

"I want to talk to Martin," Dodd argued, unwavering.

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head. "Where are those boys?"

"I want…"

"I don't care what you want," Jack yelled out, slamming his hand on the table. "Start talking or stop wasting our time."

"No! It's you who is wasting time!" Dodd screamed back, indignant. Martin could see foamy spit at the edges of the old man's mouth and his nostrils flaring. "I demand to speak to Martin right this instant! This isn't what I agreed to! I only want to tell him!"

"Where are those boys?!" Jack demanded.

Dodd balled his fists up tightly and looked away trying to recover the cool he let loose. He took long deep breaths, his chest rising and falling. He stared at the wall to his side his head cocked, thinking. After what felt like an eternity he turned to face Jack and said, "I will lead you to Kevin's body but Martin has to be there too."

"Forget it," Jack replied, shaking his head.

"Don't be foolish," Dodd said. "You will never find him without my help. You know it and I know it. You bring Martin to me and I will take you to Kevin. This way we both get what we want."

Martin didn't wait to hear how Jack replied because he clicked off the intercom and strode determinedly around the corner and opened the door. Ignoring the exasperated expression on Jack's face he looked at Dodd and said, "Fine. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

XoXoXoX

_When the devil comes blowing through your door  
You'll know there's trouble, and he's coming back for more.  
You better keep what is precious hidden under the floor.  
Or you better treat it so good it will never want for more._

'Devil Song' – Beth Orton

XoXoXoX

Chapter 6

XoXoXoX

"_Okay, we're going to do a thirty-five left. Run your routes," Martin announced to his teammates who were gathered into a tight huddle. He glanced over to look at their opponents across the field at the same time that his nemesis, Ricky, looked up from talking with his team. They two boys glared at one another before redirecting their attention back to calculating how to win the game. _

_He looked at his best friend and said, "Chris, I want you to fake left and then go right; I will get the ball to you."_

"_Got it."_

_He gave the team a determined nod, slapped his hands together and shouted, "Break!" _

_The group of boys broke apart and moved onto the field, the long summer grass mashed flat from a long afternoon of tackles and running. The boys got into formation, Martin saw Chris take a few deep breaths as he moved into his stance. While in so many other areas of their life Chris was considered more knowledgeable and confident of the two, when it came to sports it was Martin who reigned; be it football, baseball, soccer, La Crosse or even air hockey, this was the one area in Martin's life where he didn't hold back his passion. _

_He took position as quarterback, quickly glancing up to sneer at Ricky before calling out, "Blue fifty two! Blue fifty two! Hike!" _

_Chris did as he was told and ran long while the other boys tackled anyone running interference. Martin spotted Ricky headed straight for him and maneuvered out of his way just in time to throw a pass that landed squarely in his friend's hands. Chris ran as hard as he could until he was past the two mulberry bushes that served as their goal post, slamming the ball into the ground and jumping up and down in victoriously. _

"_Touch down!" Martin screamed with his arms raised victoriously in the air. "We win!" He was grinning ear to ear, his dimples dented so deep into his cheeks that they almost hurt. His teammates rushed up and they all started exchanging high fives and enthusiastic grins. He smirked at Ricky who wore a sullen expression as he kicked the dirt and grumbled to his defeated team. _

_He met Martin's eyes and mouthed, "Next time."_

_Martin nodded, knowing that they were going to have one more rematch before summer ended and camp was over, sending them all back home. It was their summertime tradition. _

"_Man that was great," Chris announced as he jogged over to join the huddle of boys. "Did you see the look on Ricky's face? I thought he was going to cry, seriously, I did." _

"_I know," Martin replied as he looked around at all of his smiling friends. "Just one more game and we will have beaten him every summer for four years straight._

"_We make a great team," Chris said as he tossed the football up in the air, it spun around a few times before landing back in his hands. "Just think, Martin, pretty soon we'll play in high school, then college and then for the New York Giants…"_

"_Hey," Martin stopped short and held up his hand saying, "Or the Washington Redskins. I have a feeling that they are going to great next season. But either way, we need to play for a winning team. That way we'll get those sweet Super Bowl rings."_

"_Alright," Chris said with a nod before shrugging and adding, "It doesn't matter what team we play for because with you as the quarterback and me as the running back, we can't lose." _

"_You got that right," Martin replied, feeling pumped up. _

"_Check it out, we have cheerleaders," his friend, Ryan, whispered and bumped him on the arm. He pointed to the sidelines and both Martin and Chris looked over to see Casey, Sarah and a few other girls applauding. Well, actually, Casey and the other girls were jumping up and down and cheering while Sarah stood perfectly still and just clapped her hands. She met his eyes, giving him a smile and nod. _

_Chris ogled the sight of Casey jumping up and down and murmured, "Man, I'd play everyday if I got to see that." He looked at Martin and said, "Let's go talk to them."_

"_But we're supposed to all go back the cabin for a victory party," Martin said, jerking his head over at the rest of the team where they were picking up their stuff. "I'm kind of the team captain and I…"_

_Chris grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction of the girls. "Don't be such a wimp. We're just going to going thank the fans for showing up and invite them to join our celebration." _

"_Oh-kay," Martin replied, hesitantly. He didn't know where his newfound shyness was coming from. He was normally fine chatting with girls but this Sarah made his stomach twist into knots every time he saw her. _

_Chris let go of his arm as they slowed their pace when they reached the girls. Casey was the first one to step forward, meeting them halfway. Chris smiled broadly and said, "Hey." _

"_You guys were great," she replied, giving him a beatific grin. "Ricky looked really pissed off, too." _

"_Bonus," Chris replied nonchalantly. _

"_Hey," Martin greeted the entire group with a small wave before looking at Sarah and smiling. _

_He was rewarded with a smile and compliment in return. "You have a strong arm. That was a really impressive pass." _

"_Thanks," he replied, blushing brightly. _

"_So what are you guys doing now?" Chris asked._

_Casey reached up and twisted a strand of her hair betwixt her fingers. "I don't know, stuff I guess. Why?"_

"_I'm…I mean the team and me," he corrected, waving his hand between him and Martin, "We're going back to our cabin to celebrate. We have soda and snacks and stuff if you guys want to come and join us." _

"_Um," Casey replied as she looked over her shoulder, sharing a coy smile with her friends who nodded in agreement. She looked back at Chris and said, "Okay, sure. We'd like that. I just have to stop by my cabin first so we'll meet you there." _

"_Cool," Chris replied with the most restrained grin Martin had ever seen him wear. _

_Casey turned and walked away, the other girls falling into step behind her with the exception of Sarah who lingered behind. _

_She stepped up to Martin and softly said, "You really do have a great arm but you should watch your release time. If you let go just a second sooner I think you should see a definite improvement on your yardage."_

"_Um okay," Martin stammered out. "Thanks."_

_She stared at him for a beat as if contemplating him before turning around and heading off in the direction that the other girls had gone off to earlier. _

"_She likes you," Chris teased as his voice went to a higher pitch. "Oh, Martin, you have such a strong arm…"_

"_Shut up." He shoved Chris and they both laughed. _

"_Man, Marty," Chris said as he and Martin watched Sarah disappear around one of the cabins. "Between Casey and me, you and Sarah, the dive off the cliff and winning another football game, it's like this is our summer. We can't lose!" _

XoXoXoX

Martin closed his eyes, pressing his finger and thumb hard against the lids. His eyes were tired and itchy from lack of sleep and coffee could only do so much. 

"Did you not get much rest last night?" Dodd's voice asked from the backseat. Martin opened his eyes and glanced at him but didn't reply. Undeterred, Dodd continued, "Because I slept like a baby. In fact I don't think I had ever slept as well as I did last night." 

Martin turned back around and stared out the windshield as Jack drove the car down the narrow dirt road through Voorhees National Forest. The pine trees were full and tall, draping the route in dark shadows. This drive was quiet and solitary; they hadn't passed a single car the entire drive. While it was still winter you could generally still run into a few winter hikers and campers. And considering that they had a relatively warm season one would think that there would be a lot more activity on a bright, sunny day. 

Of course that may be why it was the most idyllic location for a body dump. 

He looked in his rearview mirror to see a crime scene van and two more bureau cars following from behind. The vehicles obscured through the dust and dirt that the car was kicking up. He sighed and looked at Jack seated beside him. While Jack was plenty angry that Martin interrupted the interrogation he decided to comply with Dodd's request, with stipulations of course. He would only allow it with the understanding that they wouldn't go alone. They would be accompanied by some additional agents and a criminalistics crew in order to ensure that so any remains would not be tampered with. 

"How much further?" Jack asked, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. 

"We're almost there." Dodd leaned forward and craned his head to look ahead. "Park the car next to that mile marker sign." 

Jack slowed the car and pulled over, careful to avoid the embankment. He exited the car and opened the back door for Dodd. It took a moment for the old man to step out so Jack reached over and carefully pulled him out, a maneuver made more difficult as Dodd was still handcuffed behind his back. Dodd stood upright and his eyes scanned the forest before landing directly on Martin. 

He grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. He looked so remarkably cheery considering the reason they were really here. Martin just glared back but Dodd just shrugged. 

Jack led Dodd around the car and asked, "Where to?"

"It's about a half mile inland," Dodd replied, his eyes drifting from Martin to a path between two tall pine trees. 

Jack told the other agents to hang back until they were needed and then ordered Dodd to start walking. 

Dodd shuffled slightly ahead of them, his hands still cuffed behind him. With his gaze fixed straight ahead he began walking and talking, his tone low, soft and reflective. 

"It's funny how clearly I can remember walking this path before, seems just like yesterday," he smiled and surveyed their surroundings, "The smell of pine and dew and that fresh mountain air. So warm and familiar, just like Kevin. I can still clearly recall the way Kevin's hair smelled like the cherry blossoms. It was such a sweet aroma. I remember thinking how unusual it was for a boy like him."

Martin wanted to tell Dodd to shut up but he couldn't bring himself to do so, needing to hear these details in a way he couldn't explain. He could feel Jack's eyes on him but he forced himself to keep his gaze straight ahead, concentrating on Dodd's words. 

Dodd never hesitated in his walk, stepping over broken branches and brush as if he took this route everyday of his life. He made it look so effortlessly Martin could almost believe that he could make the trip blindfolded. 

"I'm used to my boys smelling like, well, smelling like boys. You know that heady musky smell of perspiration, maybe a little cologne, but definitely masculine and strong." He looked over his shoulder at Martin. "You don't wear cologne do you Marty?" 

He hesitated, unsure if he should answer or not but in the end he relented. "No."

"No, I didn't think so," Dodd replied with a knowing nod before pausing, coming to a stop next to Martin and inhaling loudly. "But you do smell sort of like mint." He took another deep whiff. "No, it's green tea. Like one of those expensive products that women purchase in those salons where the stylists all wear black, serve cappuccino while people get haircuts so they can justify charging over a hundred dollars for a cut and style."

Dodd waited for Martin to reply but when none was forthcoming he smiled and asked, "Tell me, Martin, do you have a girlfriend? Is it her shampoo that you used or are you one of those men who consider themselves metrosexual?" 

Martin's eyes darted to Jack before landing back on Dodd and gave the non-committal reply, "I'm not metrosexual." 

"So a girlfriend then," Dodd said as studied Martin, his eyes darting between him and Jack. "But why did you look at him before replying so vaguely?" 

Ignoring Dodd he looked around and asked, "Are we here?" 

He stared at Martin for a long beat. 

"Not quite," he said at last. He began to walk again, his pace slow and leisurely. He glanced around and quietly said, "I love the smell of the forest, of nature, the great outdoors."

"I thought we agreed to stop wasting time," Jack rumbled. "So cut the Robert Frost and just take us there."

Dodd gave Jack an annoyed sneer and walked to a small patch of dirt a few feet away. He tilted his head and stared up at the sky, a small smile playing on his lips. "The sky was a blanket of stars that night."

"Is this it?" Martin demanded, his eyes scanning the earth beneath his feet. He knelt down and moved the dirt around with his bare hand, marking the spot. He looked up at Dodd and asked, "Here?"

Dodd nodded and replied, "I remember the night I laid him to rest. There had been several rain showers so the dirt was soft, making the digging easier." 

Martin looked over at Jack who pulled out his walkie-talkie to call the forensic team to come and start digging up the remains. Martin felt his heart thumping madly in his chest as his stomach tightened into a tight knot. An image of Kevin flashed in his mind, his cheerful smile and innocent face full of a bright future that was cut short only to end up here in a New Jersey forest in a shallow grave. 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep," Dodd's singsong voice softly said. Martin looked up at the man who seemed entranced by his surroundings. "Do you know that bedtime prayer?" 

"Yes," Martin replied, unsure where Dodd was going but knowing that it wasn't going to be good. He stood up and wiped the dirt from his hands. 

"Kevin said a lot of prayers near the end," Dodd said with a soft nostalgic sigh. "Apparently his family was very religious and he knew many prayers from heart. I remember when he finally gave up fighting me all he did was pray. From The Our Father to Psalm 23, he just kept begging God to save him." He smiled, which to the naked eye would look kind and gentle but in Martin's now jaded eyes it looked sinister and infinitely wicked. "I finally slit his throat just to get him to shut up." 

Something in Martin snapped and he crossed the patch of ground in two long strides and grabbed Dodd by the shirt, shoving him back against a tree trunk. "He was just a boy you sick bastard!"

Dodd made no attempt to struggle against Martin's grip as he coolly asked, "Tell me Martin, do you think you would have prayed? Do you think you would have begged God to take you away to heaven?"

"I'd pray for you to go straight to hell," Martin seethed, his grip on Dodd tightening. 

Dodd's eyes danced as he replied, "Hell only exists if you believe in a heaven. I don't." 

"Break it up," Jack ordered as he pulled Martin away from Dodd. He gave Martin a hard look, a silent warning, before turning to Dodd and saying, "No more talking until we can confirm what you're telling us is true. You can wait in the car." He grabbed Dodd and led him away, looking at Martin over his shoulder. There was no mistaking the expression on Jack's face telling him he needed time to cool off and regain some control. 

Martin nodded and watched as Jack escorted Dodd to the car, the forensic team passing them on their way to start the excavation. One of the forensic techs asked him where to start digging and he waved to the area Dodd had pointed out earlier. 

He stood off to the side as they began marking off the area, each digging a section at a time. Martin looked back at the ground, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm down but his heart was pumping with adrenaline from his exchange with Dodd as well as the possibility of what they were about to find. 

The team began breaking the ground when his cell phone shrilled in his pocket. He removed the phone from his pocket and answered, "Fitzgerald." 

"Hey," Sam's soft voice greeted him. "How are things going?" 

Things are awful. I want to hurt Dodd. I want to make him feel unimaginable pain. I feel like my best friend's death is my fault. I'm scared. I'm lost. These are the things Martin wanted to tell her but all that came out of his mouth was, "Forensics is working on digging up the area where Dodd said he buried Kevin."

She was quiet on the other end of the line and he briefly wondered if he had actually said his thoughts aloud when she finally replied, "I have some news on Dodd."

"What did you find out?" he asked, grateful for something else to concentrate on other than watching forensics shoveling dirt. He walked over to a nearby tree and leaned against it, listening to her reply. 

"Dodd retired from federal government in 2003. I'm still trying to reach someone to find out what sort of work he did exactly but I thought maybe, uh, maybe he was a friend of your parents."

"I can call my dad and ask him," he trailed off, working his jaw, before finishing, "Ask him if, uh, shit. Do you really think that's how he knows me?"

"I don't know," she gently replied. "But unless he tells you directly we need to explore all those options." They both went quiet before she softly said, "I'm here if you want to talk." 

He smiled against the receiver, touched by her concern. He closed his eyes and breathed out, "I know. I'm just not ready yet."

"Okay," she replied. "Call me when you find…when you know if Dodd isn't lying."

"I will," he said. "Bye."

"Bye."

He clicked off his phone and dropped it back into his pocket. He began rubbing his eyes again when one of the forensic agents shouted for him. He opened his eyes and spun around to see the skeletal remains of Kevin Hardon right where Dodd said he would be. 

Martin stepped over and crouched down to see Kevin's boney hand and skull visibly poking out from the dirt; his remains looking so small and fragile. He stared down at what remained of this young boy as an image of Chris flashed in his mind. His heart felt heavy knowing that somewhere his best friend faced a similar fate. His face tightened as he forced himself to fight back the grief that threatened to overtake him. 

Having confirmed that Dodd was the real deal he stood up and hiked back to find Jack. 

He spotted Dodd talking to Jack alone, the two men engrossed in conversation when they both suddenly looked over at him. Dodd smiled, sending a creeping chill up Martin's spine while Jack gave him a sad look and stepped away from the open car door, slamming it shut with Dodd still seated in the backseat. As Jack walked over to where Martin stood Dodd winked at him and then sat back, his profile concealed in the darkness of the car. 

"Well," Jack asked, although judging by the look on his face he already suspected the answer. 

Martin simply nodded and the two men exchanged a pained look. 

He released a heavy sigh before jerking his chin to where Dodd sat. "What's going on?" 

"Danny called," Jack solemnly replied and Martin could see the conflict in his face. "They tossed Dodd's house and found some prescription bottles in the medicine cabinet."

"Medicine for what?"

Jack glanced at Dodd who was sitting in the backseat of the sedan looking serene. "He has pancreatic cancer. Stage four. He has about six months." 

"Six months," Martin repeated, running his hand over his head, frustrated. "So not only can he drag this out but he has nothing left to lose." 


	7. Chapter 7

XoXoXoX

_Would you know my name_

_If I saw you in heaven_

_Would it be the same_

_If I saw you in heaven_

'Tears in Heaven' – Eric Clapton

XoXoXoX

Chapter 7

XoXoXoX

"_Mail call!" Brent shouted as he entered the cabin. Martin looked up from where he was searching for his baseball cap and saw him fumbling through a stack of letters, postcards and care packages as he distributed them to the campers. "Gilmore! Myers! Salinger!" _

_Martin closed the foot locker he was digging through just in time for Brent to toss a package in his direction. "Fitzgerald! You got a postcard and your aunt sent a package. If there are any snicker doodles in there I want one, okay?" _

_Martin grinned. "You got it." _

_He plopped himself down on his bed and quickly read the postcard first. His parents were in London for a conference and mini vacation. The picture on the postcard was one of a red double-decker bus and when he flipped it over he saw his mother's handwriting telling him that they missed him but hoped he was having a good time and that they would see him at the end of the summer. At the bottom edge of the card, in his father's handwriting was written: Best wishes, Dad. _

_He stared at the postcard for a beat before he pinned it to the bulletin board above his bunk and turned his attention to the package. With a big smile on his face he started to rip off the brown paper and pulling open the lid of his box to find his aunt Bonnie had sent him tins filled with snicker doodles, fudge and chocolate chip cookies. While his own parents sent him the occasional letter or postcard asking how he was doing it was his aunt who sent him actual care packages filled with things she thought he mind need or want. He couldn't help but think how lucky and loved he felt whenever he got those packages. He peered inside and saw a couple of packages of socks, some new boxer shorts, flip-flops and a letter. He was also lucky that she knew him so well because he pretty much needed replacements for all of those things. Too bad she hadn't thought to send him a new baseball cap, too. _

_He pulled out the letter she had enclosed and glanced over at Chris who lowered the comic book he was reading, waiting to see if his parents sent him anything. _

"_Warner, you lucky dog, you get two today," Brent shouted as he hurled two small boxes onto Chris' bed. He finished handing out the final batch of letters and said, "Okay, guys, hurry up and put your stuff away. We have to hike out to meet the forest ranger for the animal tracking demo." _

_All the boys nodded in acknowledgment before ignoring his request to hurry as they opened letters and packages. _

_He tore open the envelope and sat back to read the letter when he noticed Chris' forlorn expression. _

"_What is it?" he asked, still holding the envelope in his hand. _

_Chris held up the two small packages he received and softly said, "I got two."_

"_Yeah, that's pretty cool," he unfolded the letter and leaned back to start reading. "If they sent you any candy I'll trade you for some cookies."_

_Chris shook his head. "You don't understand. I got one from my mom and one from dad." He stood up and displayed them in front of Martin. "Look at the return addresses. My mom's is from home and my dad's is from some apartment in the village." _

_Martin studied the boxes, flabbergasted. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to come up with some sort of logical explanation but none was forthcoming. He swallowed and met his friend's eyes as they shared a look of worry that maybe Chris was right: his parents just might be getting a divorce. _

"_I have to call them," Chris said, as he dropped the boxes onto his bed and dashed out the door._

_Ignoring the curious looks of the other boys in the cabin, Martin raced after him. Chris was fast but thankfully Martin was faster. He managed to catch up with him on the path to the camp office. "What are you doing? You know you can only use the phone for emergencies."_

_Chris stopped and whirled around. "And you don't think that the fact that my parents are separating counts as an emergency?" _

"_That's not what I meant…" Martin stammered out, feeling foolish and useless. "It's just we have to go to the tracking thing…" he trailed off, waving towards where the other kids were gathering. _

_Chris glared at him and flatly replied, "You go. I need to find out what's going on."_

_That said, he turned back around and stormed off to the camp office. _

_Martin stood there, worriedly watching his friends retreating form when Brent and several other boys, including Ricky and Matt, came up from behind. _

_Brent patted Martin on the back and said, "You ready?" _

_Martin glanced in the general area where Chris disappeared, wondering if he should follow his friend before quickly deciding against it. He looked at Brent and said, "Yeah, let's go."_

"_Where's your boyfriend?" Ricky mocked. _

_Brent shot him a warning look before asking Martin, "Where is Chris?"_

_Martin debated on how much to share before finally replying, "He had some stuff to do so he's not going today." _

"_Maybe I should go talk to him," Brent offered, looking around as if Chris was going to magically appear. _

_He shook his head. "Nah, he said he needed to do something else and to just go." _

"_Yeah, let's go," Matt said as he took a few steps backwards. "I want to ask Hank to tell us the story about fighting off the bear again."_

_Brent hesitated on leaving before finally nodding his head and leading the boys towards the main trails. He gave them an apologetic look and said, "Sorry to disappoint but Hank retired. We have a new guy."_

"_Oh man," Matt moaned. "Hank was the best. He's been here every summer since like forever."_

_All the boys murmured in agreement and began sharing the tall tales Hank had told them over the years. He was an older guy but he told the best stories about hunting and fishing and encountering bears, elk, and even mountain lions. He was very descriptive in his stories, never holding back the fear or the rush of adrenaline and in some cases the gore. _

"_Yeah, well, he's not doing it this year sorry." Brent led them up the path and over his shoulder he said, "But I hear the new guy is really good. He's some sort of Game and Wildlife Expert."_

"_What's his name?" Matt asked as he stomped on a fallen branch causing it emit a loud cracking sound. _

"_His name is Travis Dodd," a voice announced. All the kids looked ahead to see a man dressed in a ranger's outfit walking towards them. He was tall, tanned and wearing dark sunglasses. He smiled at the boys and extended his hand towards Brent. "Hello, you must be Brent from Camp Cayuga." _

"_That's me," Brent replied before he began introducing them. Dodd nodded at each boy as they were introduced when Brent finally got to him, "And this is Martin."_

_Dodd held out his hand and Martin reached out to shake it. "It's nice to meet you, Martin. You ready to have some fun today?" _

_Martin couldn't help but notice how firm Dodd's grip was but he just smiled and replied, "I sure am." _

XoXoXoX

Martin and Jack turned to walk back to the site when Jack spotted a paw print in the muddy path. He stepped over it and casually said, "I'd hate to see the beast that left that print." 

"It's just a raccoon," Martin replied when he stopped and stood shock still as a wave of memories of his last summer with Chris came crashing down, bringing along with them the recollection of how and when Martin met the man who destroyed the life of a boy Martin loved like a brother. 

With the clarity of memory, Martin abruptly spun around and darted straight to the bureau sedan. He yanked the door open and stared inside at Dodd. "You were the ranger who taught us how to track wildlife."

Dodd smiled back. "Good. You remember me." He shifted in the seat for a better angle to look at Martin. "I was wondering when you would." 

"Is that how you did it?" Martin asked between gritted teeth. "You gained the boys trust to lure them? To get them alone so you could hurt them?"

Dodd studied Martin's eyes, evaluating him carefully. "You tired, Martin. Maybe we should continue this conversation tomorrow after you get a good night's sleep." 

He grabbed Dodd and pulled him forward, closer to him but not quite out of the car. "You were the one who insisted we chat one on one and now you want to stop?" He felt Jack's hands grab his shoulders but he kept going, too consumed with fury to stop. "Now I'm just getting started. I'm the one who wants to talk. Tell me what you did!"

"No, not yet," Dodd calmly replied. "It's not time."

"There is no time. You're dying in six months so tell me now!"

"No, not yet," he repeated. 

Jack managed to pull him away and slam the door shut with Dodd still inside. Martin wrestled free only to watch as Jack ordered one of the other agents to drive Dodd back to the city. The agent hurried into the driver's seat and started the car. Martin stood helplessly by as the car sped down the dirt road and out of sight. 

"Why did you stop me?" he asked, wiping spit foam from the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"There's a time and place and this isn't it," Jack warned. 

Martin looked around to see other agents watching him warily. 

"Come on, let's get out of here," Jack said as he motioned for Martin to follow him to their car. 

Martin hesitated. "What about Kevin?" 

"I think forensics can handle it from here," Jack replied as he began walking to the sedan, clicking on the keychain to deactivate the alarm. 

Martin's feet remained firmly in place as Jack reached the car, opening up the driver's side door. He paused and looked at Martin over the roof of the car and said, "We found him and now we need to let them do their work to bring Kevin's body home. There's nothing more for us to do here." 

Jack waited for him with empathetic eyes. Martin looked back over to see two agents walking out of the woods with a small body bag on top of a gurney and load it into the back of the van. He released a heavy audible sigh before reluctantly walking to the waiting car and getting inside. 

They arrived back into the city a couple of hours later but instead of heading in the direction of the federal building Jack turned onto Martin's street. 

"What's going on?"

"You've been awake for over 48 hours," he replied, his eyes focused on the busy city street. "You need to get some rest. You're no good to yourself or anyone else if you are too tired to function."

"I'm fine," Martin argued, knowing that it sounded hallow even in his own ears. "Besides you've been awake this entire time, too." 

"And that's why I am going home right after this," Jack replied pulling the car to a stop in front of Martin's building. "We can start again in the morning." 

"This is wrong," he replied, shaking his head. "We have Kevin now and after I talk to him again we can find the other boy and Chris."

Jack shook his own head. "Martin, I can't begin to understand what you must be going through but I do know that you need to try and get some rest if you plan to talk to Dodd again. I need you to be able to think clearly and in order to do that you need sleep."

Martin sighed and looked out the windshield to see an elderly woman walking her poodle. "How am I supposed to do that?" 

"Take a pill, count sheep, drink warm milk, I don't care. But at least try and get a few hours in. Dodd got his forty winks so I need you to at least get thirty."

Martin lips curved up into a humorless smile. "But if I spend time sleeping he is just going to get another forty."

Jack grinned and replied, "Trust me. Dodd isn't going to get any beauty sleep. He will be waiting in an interview room with bright lights and an agent to make sure he stays awake so next time you see him he will be too tired to try and control you."

"I have control," he argued. 

"You're tired and you're slipping," Jack breathed. "You had control at the beginning and you can have it again but you need to sleep."

Martin stared at Jack for a beat before conceding defeat and nodding at him as he stepped out of the car and into his building. 

However after about twenty minutes of lying on his bed tossing and turning unable to sleep, the walls felt too confining and the air felt too heavy. He knew he had reached the point of exhaustion when he was too wired to actually sleep. He stared up at the ceiling before finally deciding he needed to get out and do something, anything. He quickly changed into his running clothes thinking that maybe a run would help him relax or at the very least tire him out enough to fall asleep. 

A short while later Martin headed was at Central Park running the Reservoir Loop. He was well into mile three when a familiar figure appeared.

"Fancy running into you here," Danny greeted, jogging slowly towards him. He gave a light laugh and said, "Get it? _Running_ into you?" 

Martin slowed his pace and looked at his friend. Danny was still dressed in his work suit, which wasn't exactly conducive for a run in the park. He eyed him and deadpanned, "Why do I think it's more than a coincidence?" 

Danny had the decency to look busted. "Sam called me. She said she went to your place but you weren't home so I took a lucky guess." He slowed to a stop and asked, "Can we take a break? I usually don't like running in my suit unless I am pursuing a suspect." 

Martin nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. The two men walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. They were both quiet as they watched other runners jog by and the ferry's lights brightly illuminated as they went sailing out on the water past the glittering city skyline. 

"Jack told us you remembered Dodd," Danny said at last. "You remembered how you knew him or, rather, how he knew you." 

Martin glanced at him before he leaned forward, his legs spread and elbows resting on his knees. 

"We looked into it and park rangers have access to tranquilizers so we think that's how he was able to drug the boys," Danny continued. "We have other agents running his work history to get a list of all the state parks where he has worked over the years." He paused and shifted on the bench before he softly added, "I know it probably doesn't seem like it right now but it's a good thing that you remembered."

"A good thing, yeah right," Martin replied, shaking his head. "You know what I remember?" he asked, looking over at Danny. "What I remember most was how nice he was. Can you believe that? I thought he was nice." 

XoX

"_Alright, can anyone guess what sorts of tracks these are?" Dodd asked as he ran his eyes over the crowd of mostly boys with a few girls mixed in. His gazed landed on Martin and he asked, "What about you? You want to give it a try?" _

_Martin eagerly stepped over and crouched down, scrutinizing the prints. They looked familiar and it took him a beat before his mind landed on the correct animal. He smiled at Dodd and replied, "It's a raccoon." _

"_That's right," he said, putting his hand on Martin's shoulder. "Good job. Now, how can you tell?"_

"_Well," Martin began, licking his lips. "All the prints have five toes and raccoons had five in front and back." He pointed to the shape of one of the prints. "Plus, they are two at a time but one is the front and the other is the back."_

"_Very good," Dodd replied, his eyes dancing with enthusiasm. "How can you tell which is the front and which is the back."_

_Martin's tongued darted out as he concentrated on his answer. "Okay, see that one print is really long and here," he pointed to an indentation, "the heel pad is shaped like a 'C' so that is the front but the other print is stubbier and it's deeper. Raccoons usually leave deeper impressions on their hind paws."_

_Martin stood up and noticed that his friends giving him impressed looks. He grinned at them when Dodd placed his hand on his back and softly asked, "Where did you learn to track?"_

"_My uncle Roger taught me," Martin replied. "He and my aunt take me camping and hiking a lot."_

"_That's excellent," Dodd replied with a beaming smile as he reached over to muss Martin's hair. "I'm very impressed."_

"_Thanks," he replied with a bashful but proud shrug. _

_They shared a look when, sounding bored, Ricky asked, "So do you shoot raccoons like Hank?" _

"_I shoot them but not to kill," Dodd answered as he pulled a gun from his holster. "This gun is filled with tranquilizer darts. I prefer to sedate my prey so that I can move them to a more appropriate location."_

"_Hank liked to kill them," Ricky mocked. _

"_Well that's not the way I work. I prefer to hunt bigger creatures," Dodd replied with his eyes on Martin for a beat before looking over at the crowd of campers. "But right now let's talk about raccoons. They are members of the Carnivore order and the only member of its family in North America. It is also the most common wildlife to encounter." He motioned for them to gather closer as he continued, "Now it moves in a variety of ways but no other creature leaves tracks in quite the same way. As you can see the front and hind foots match in an alternating two pattern their pace is steady ten to seventeen inches apart, six inches across…" _

XoX

"The rest of the day we tracked and I remember feeling so proud that I was the best tracker in the group," Martin finished. "I soaked up all the praise that Dodd kept giving me." He ran his hand over his head, trying to soothe the looming headache. "I was so stupid."

"You weren't stupid," Danny replied. "You were just a kid." 

He looked up and fixed his gaze on a passing freighter gliding on the water. "The thing I keep thinking about is if Chris had gone with us that day Dodd would have known that we looked alike and maybe," he paused, working his jaw, "Maybe he would have been more careful. Maybe he wouldn't have confused us so easily."

"Or he would have picked Chris over you," Danny countered. 

Martin shook his head. "I match Dodd's type, not Chris. He would have left Chris alone."

"So it's Chris' fault," Danny argued, leaning back against the bench. "He should have gone. Or better yet, his parents should have known and not sent their son two packages on that on particular day in case there was an off chance that a psychopath would be at camp that summer looking for a new victim. Of course, if they were really good parents they wouldn't have sent him at all."

He turned to face Danny and darkly said, "Don't make jokes."

"I'm not," Danny replied. His tone was even and serious. "Martin, I know about feeling guilty when it's really not your fault. I know what it's like to feel like if you had done something different, said something else or not gotten angry than maybe everything would have turned out different. But I promise you that thinking like that doesn't do you any good and it doesn't change a damn thing no matter how much you obsess about it."

"I just feel like I should have known, should have sensed something."

"You were just a fourteen year old kid. There's no way you could have known or even guessed that someone like that could be capable of thinking that about you or anyone else."

"The rational side of my brain knows that you're making sense but," he paused, working his tongue into his cheek. "But there's another part of me that feels guilty knowing that my best friend was murdered just because he looked like me."

"Looking alike isn't a crime," Danny softly replied. He leaned forward, his posture mimicking Martin's, and finished, "The crime is what that man did to those boys and the only one guilty in all of this is Travis Dodd."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: First, thank you all for reading and reviewing. Seriously, it means so much especially since this fic is a real departure for me to write. 

Second, as I know many of you are anxiously wondering when there will be some MS time, it's in the next chapter which I hope to post Tuesday, March 25th.


	8. Chapter 8

XoXoXoX

_If I could throw myself  
Set your spirit free  
I'd lead your heart away  
See you break, break away  
Into the light  
And to the day_

'Bad' – U2

XoXoXoX

Chapter 8

XoXoXoX

_Martin didn't know what Chris' parents told him but whatever it was Chris refused to talk about it. Whenever Martin tried to bring it up, Chris would just shrug it off and change the subject. Martin knew him well enough to know when to press him and when to back off and it was abundantly clear that this was the time to give him space. So instead of talking about his parents Chris became more focused on enjoying his time at camp and more precisely how that enjoyment related to Casey Winters. Over the next week Casey and Sarah became frequent visitors to their cabin and often joined them on excursions out onto the lake. _

_While it was clear that Casey and Chris were becoming like a couple, Sarah and Martin remained firmly planted in the friend zone. _

_That is until the camp dance. Every summer, as camp drew to a close there was a dance. It wasn't very fancy but they served desserts, punch and decorated the mess hall with a cheesy disco ball and streamers. Martin usually went with a group of his friends and they just hung out and ate cookies while complaining about the lousy music. But this year, Chris told him he planned to ask Casey to be his official date. Which was fine by Martin, but when Chris asked Casey she only agreed with the stipulation that Martin be Sarah's date, too. Martin and Chris weren't too surprised as it was a well-known phenomenon that girls traveled in packs. _

_Martin agreed but only after a lot of pleading and some begging by Chris. Truth be told, Martin was secretly thrilled at the idea of him and Sarah going to the dance as a couple. _

_So here Martin and Chris sat with Casey and Sarah at one of the tables drinking punch as the Pet Shop Boys song, "It's a Sin" blasted from the antiquated speakers in the corner of the room. Martin scanned the make-shift dance floor to see that most of the people dancing were girls in large circles or the occasional couple where the girl's eyes focused on anyone but her dance partner who was shuffling his feet, trying to pretend he had rhythm. _

_He took a sip of his punch and glanced over at Sarah who was staring at Ricky Narducci standing at the dessert table stuffing his face with cookies. He couldn't help but notice how bored she looked when he remembered the advice his aunt gave him about girls: look them in the eye, act interested in what they are saying and ask questions about them._

_Martin scooted his chair closer to hers and over the din of the music asked, "What kind of music do you like?" _

_She gave him a quizzical look before she leaned her head towards his and replied, "I like The Smiths, The Cure, New Order." She gave him a genuine smiled and added, "But U2 is really my favorite."_

"_Really?" he asked, happy to see they shared the same taste in music._

_Casey leaned forward and inserted herself into their conversation. "I tried telling her that U2 isn't going to last. Now Bananarama will be around forever, they're timeless."_

_Martin and Chris shared a look but both smiled politely at Casey when the song switched to Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." Casey leapt up from her seat, announcing that this was her song. She grabbed Chris' arm and dragged him to the dance floor insisting that he must dance with her. Martin restrained a laugh as Casey started bopping to the music while a befuddled looking Chris stood shock still like a deer caught in the headlights. Martin restrained a laugh as Chris tried to make the top half of his body move in beat with the bottom half. _

_He shook his head embarrassed for his friend before redirecting his attention to Sarah. "I like U2, too," he said and she turned to meet his eyes, drawn back into their conversation. "I know Joshua Tree is what everyone knows them for but I like The Unforgettable Fire."_

_Sarah lifted up her cup of punch and asked, "What's your favorite song?"_

"_Bad," he replied, watching as she took a drink. "You?" _

_She lowered her glass and replied, "I like Running to Stand Still."_

"_That's a good song," he replied genuinely interested. "It's kinda sad though."_

_She lowered her eyes, focusing on the inside of her cup. "That's why I like it._

_He simply nodded. He was impressed that she didn't say "With or Without You" since just about every girl he knew always claimed that song was their fave, insisting that Bono was soulful and the song tragically romantic. As much as he liked U2 he found the video for the song to be irritating since Bono holds a guitar the entire time but not once does he actually play it. It is just a prop to add to his persona. It irked him because he thought Bono had a great voice and should be above such petty illusions. _

_Suddenly the dance music stopped before being quickly replaced by the melancholy tune "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. He watched as couples drifted onto the dance floor and began to slowly move with the music. Soon, the dance floor was flooded as the tables all around them emptied out. _

_XoX_

_Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,  
And think of you  
Caught up in circles confusion  
Is nothing new  
Flashback warm nights  
Almost left behind  
Suitcase of memories,  
Time after  
_

XoX

_He glanced at Sarah who stared out at the sea of couples. He cleared his throat and nervously croaked out, "Um, do you want to dance?"_

_She turned to look at him, smiled and nodded. _

_XoX_

_Sometimes you picture me  
I'm walking too far ahead  
You're calling to me, I can't hear  
What you've said  
Then you say go slow  
I fall behind  
The second hand unwinds_

_If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
_

_XoX_

_They walked side by side out onto the dance floor. It was at this instant that it occurred to him he had never actually touched her before and he found his palms sweat up at the mere thought of it. He stealthily wiped his hands on his pants as they gave each other an evaluating look, each unsure and awkward about what to do next. Finally she laughed softly and stepped closer, carefully raising her hands on his shoulders. Getting his cue he gingerly placed his hands on her waist, feeling clumsy and awkward._

_XoX_

_If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time_

_XoX_

_His mind was racing as he tried to call upon all the advice he was given over the years on how to properly slow dance: don't step on her feet. Sway. Listen to the beat and let it guide you… He was so preoccupied with trying to keep his feet moving in one, two, one two that he was taken off guard when Sarah slowly moved her hands until her arms were loosely wrapped around his neck. He swallowed, shocked and infinitely happy, when she softly rested her head against his shoulder. _

_He smiled and let his mind fall away from dance techniques as all his thoughts became focused on the smell of Sarah's hair.  
_

_XoX_

_After my picture fades and darkness has  
Turned to gray  
Watching through windows you're wondering  
If I'm ok  
Secrets stolen from deep inside  
The drum beats out of time_

If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time

XoXoXoX

NC – 17 for Sexual Content

Sweaty and spent, Martin returned home after his run and conversation with Danny. He unlocked his door and stepped into his apartment to find a lovely blonde woman sitting on his sofa. Sam dropped the _Sports Illustrated_ magazine she had been leafing through onto the table and stood up.

"I see you finally used the key I gave you," he deadpanned as he tossed his own keys onto the desk.

She gave him a sheepish smile. "Where have you been? I thought Jack ordered you to get some rest."

"I went for a run to clear my head and then I ran into Danny and you know him," he toed off his sneakers, "Yak, yak, yak…" He smiled at her and was rewarded with a perturbed but gentle look. "I'm pretty rank, I'm gonna go take a shower."

He started to the bedroom and he didn't have to look behind him to know she was following him.

"So he found you," she said as they stepped into the bedroom behind him.

He nodded, pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it towards the closet. "Yeah," he replied as he removed his socks. He looked over at as she crawled onto his bed and sat down cross-legged in the center. "He said that you called him."

"I was worried about you," she softly replied. "I am worried."

He nodded and breathed, "Me too."

"Are you ready to talk yet?"

He sighed heavily and met her eyes. "Can I take a shower first?"

She smiled and nodded.

He walked into the bathroom, sliding the shower door back so he could turn on the water. He tested the temperature against his fingers and finding it agreeable he stripped off his trainers and got inside. He stood under the hot water spray, the water beating down on him like hundreds of hot water pellets that soothed out his aching body. He braced his hands against the tile wall and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of the steam.

He had to admit that he felt like a small burden had been lifted after his conversation with Danny but the enormity of what was still to be done weighed down on him. His head hurt at the just knowing the questions he still had to ask Dodd, things he had to hear and learn, it was just so much to absorb. His heart clenched under his rib cage as he thought about Chris' body laying unclaimed in a shallow grave somewhere, his flesh long decayed and only his bones remaining. He opened his eyes and wiped his hands over his face, trying to erase those thoughts from his mind.

He didn't know how he could get any sleep with the wheels in his mind constantly spinning. He wished he could turn his mind off, let all the thoughts that kept assaulting him fall away.

Twenty minutes later he stepped out of the shower and toweled off, wrapping it around his waist. He walked back into the bedroom to find Sam stripped down to her camisole and tucked into bed. He decided to forgo pajamas and walked to his side of the bed, unceremoniously dropped the towel to the floor and climbed into bed.

She smiled at him as she reached over and ran her hand over his hair, brushing it away from his face. "You look exhausted."

He chuckled. "Good to know I look how I feel."

She curled up next to him, her head propped by one hand as she caressed the side of his face with the other. "You need to try and get some sleep."

He closed his eyes and leaned into the palm of her hand. "I know but I don't think I can."

She shifted next to him and he opened his eyes to see her moving in close. She kissed softly on the lips.

"You don't," he began, unsure what exactly he was going to protest.

"Shh," she murmured. "Just let me…"

She kissed him again before planting soft warm kisses along his jaw line. She moved on top of him and with the exception of one very particular part of his body, his entire body went slack against hers. He wanted to protest that she didn't have to do this but somewhere in the corners of his mind he admitted that this felt familiar and warm and made him feel something infinitely different than what he had been feeling for the last 36 hours.

She rested her knees on both sides of his hips as she kissed him again. This time he found a renewed hunger in his need to touch her, to feel her, to feel anything other than pain and hurt. He reached for her waist, gripping her firmly as he pulled her to him. He ran his hands up her sides before making his way to her breasts, testing the weight of her in his hands. She moved back, pulling her camisole off and tossing it to the side of the bed.

She moved back towards him, kissing him hard on the mouth. He felt his erection surge with a rush of blood and felt an overwhelming need to be inside of her. He moved to lift her hips just above his manhood and with heavy lidded eyes he watched as she lowered her body onto his, releasing a heavy breath as he slid into her inch by inch.

She closed her eyes and her body stilled, adjusting to him. She opened her drowsy eyes and bent to his face, kissing him hard. He began to move in an achingly familiar rhythm and she moved her hands to grip the pillow on either side of his head. His mouth moved on top of hers, their tongues thrusting in time with their lovemaking.

He moved his hands back to her waist, squeezing it tightly, trying to let her guide the rhythm while simultaneously moving deeper into her. Her lips parted breathlessly as he grinded into her in long deep strokes.

Her head fell to the side as he took a nipple into his mouth, suckling on the stiffened flesh and was rewarded with an audible moan. She moved one hand behind his head and ground her hips harder against his body.

He gasped at feeling impossibly deep inside of her, listening as she moaned and panted heavily, releasing punctuated breathless words, "More…Martin…yes…uh-huh…"

He felt her thighs tense and shake, marking the ascent of her orgasm until she moaned in pleasure. He rolled her onto her back and after a few more thrusts he followed her into the abyss.

He collapsed on top of her, trying to catch his breath. She started kissing his sweaty brow and he rolled back over, pulling her close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, a limp arm draped over his chest.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he knew that her plan had worked. Not only had she managed to make him stop thinking as it was virtually impossible for a man to think when all the blood in his body was redirected to regions southward but there was also no better remedy for sleeplessness than the physical exertion of sex.

He eventually caved to the exhaustion and his consciousness faded to black.

However it didn't last long.

He awoke a few hours later, startled awake by a nightmare.

In his dream he was back on top of Cayuga Cliff and he saw Chris and Dodd standing on the ledge. Dodd winked and pushed Chris over the side. He tried to run and stop him but as hard as he ran he couldn't bridge the distance fast enough and Chris plummeted to his death.

He bolted upright, panting heavily to find himself back in his bedroom with Sam slumbering next to him. He stared down at her knowing he couldn't get back to sleep now so he carefully pulled the blankets off so he could get out of bed. As he moved the comforter he smiled, realizing that this was the first time that Sam had shared the covers. He didn't know if it was on purpose or just a subconscious gesture to show she cared. Didn't matter, either way he was touched. He looked back over at her and smiled as he carefully moved a strand of hair away from her face. She sighed in her sleep and rolled over.

He waited a beat before he climbed out of bed and walked to his dresser, aching and sticky. He pulled out a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, putting them on before quietly padding his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

He didn't bother turning on any lamps, the lights of the city illuminating his kitchen enough that he could see what he was doing. He opened a cabinet and got a glass before walking to the refrigerator to fill it with water.

He took a sip, the cool water moistening his dry mouth.

He leaned against the counter and released a heavy breath. The empty mind from lovemaking now filled up again with thoughts of Dodd, Chris and the third boy that he still knew nothing about. Now a nightmare was added to the jumble of thoughts.

He hadn't thought about Cayuga Cliff in years but now here it was a prominent feature in his mindscape. And that's when he remembered that he had pictures from that last summer he spent with Chris. He set his glass down on the counter and wandered to the hall closet. He pulled on the string to turn on the light in the closet and began moving boxes around. He had kept the photos in an old shoebox, always intending to put them in a photo album but never getting around to it.

He found the shoe box and carried it into the living room.

He sat down on the sofa and took the lid off of the box. He looked inside to see it jammed with photos. He began flipping through them, a jumble of events throughout his life before he finally found the ones he sought. He pulled out the small stack and smiled as he remembered all the fun from that fateful summer. There were pictures from canoeing on the lake, archery, swimming, goofing around in the cabin…

He didn't know how long he was sitting there when he heard Sam approach. He looked up to see her walking towards him, wrapped up in a blanket from the bed and wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, in her soft sotto bedroom voice.

He smiled and motioned for her to sit down next to him. "Do you want to see the Chris I remember?"

She nodded as she slowly padded towards him. The sofa dipped as she sat down with her body close to his. She rested her chin on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his waist, her fingers running soft gentle fingers along his back and he finds it comforting.

He held up a photo of him and Chris chopping at a fallen tree trunk with small axes. "This is Chris."

She studied the photo, an intense curious look on her face. "What are you guys doing?"

He grinned. "We found this log along the river and we thought we would try and make our own canoe."

She looked at him amused. "Did you?"

He shook his head, releasing a light laugh. "Nah, we got bored about half-way through the summer when we realized that we couldn't take it home with us."

He dropped it back in the box and pulled out a photo of him, Sarah, Chris and Casey. It was taken a few days after the dance. Casey and Chris were sitting close together, their feet dangling off the pier while he and Sarah were laughing and splashing each other in the water.

"Who's she?" Sam asked as she pointed to Sarah. He glanced at her and noticed she had a devilish grin on her face.

With his eyes on the photo, a small smile played on his lips. "That's Sarah Miller."

"Was she your girlfriend?" she asked in a playful teasing voice.

He looked up, thoughtful and shrugged. "I guess, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well, we never really said and I had to go home the day after this photo was taken so I don't know exactly," he replied as the bittersweet memory lingered in his mind. "We kissed once."

"Just once?"

"Her choice, not mine," he replied with a self deprecating grin.

Sam stared at him with a soft curious expression. "What was she like?"

"She was headstrong, independent, perplexing, athletic, smart, pretty, and nearly impossible to figure out." He chuckled as he turned to face Sam and kissed her on the lips. "I guess she was the first sign that I would have a thing for difficult women."

She gave him a coy smile and replied, "We prefer to be called challenging."

He laughed and mocked, "Challenging. Got it." He pulled out another photo and said, "This is me and Chris playing football…"

He spent the next hour showing Samantha photos from camp, sharing stories and memories that he had almost forgotten about. It felt good to have this time to think of Chris the way he remembered and share it with someone he cared about.

Eventually Sam fell asleep next to him on the sofa and while he promised her he would get some rest, too, he was still wide awake with his thoughts when the sun rose a few hours later.


	9. Chapter 9

_You got to cry without weeping  
Talk without speaking  
Scream without raising your voice_

'Running to Stand Still' – U2

XoXoXoX

Chapter 9

XoXoXoX

"_Nice night," Martin commented, looking up at the starry sky. _

"_Yeah," Sarah replied with a nod. _

_He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and kept his gaze focused upward as they both tried to ignore the smacking noises coming from the nearby pier where Chris and Casey were actively making-out. He heard Casey giggle before it went quiet again. He was happy for Chris but also annoyed that he was standing awkwardly along the shore trying to keep Sarah entertained so that they wouldn't have to listen or watch their friends suck face. _

"_Hey, you wanna go walk or something?" Martin asked, gesturing along the water bank. _

"_Yes," Sarah promptly replied with a grateful smile. _

_They got into step and began walking along the lake and away from their friends when Sarah suddenly stopped. He turned to look at her with a quizzical expression on his face when she kicked off her pink pumps and said, "I can't walk in these stupid heels." She picked them up and started walking barefoot along the rocky shore. _

"_Aren't your feet going to get cold or won't the rocks hurt?" he asked as he stared down at her exposed feet, making a mental note that she painted her toenails pink. _

"_After years of gymnastics the bottoms of my feet are like concrete," she replied with a slightly embarrassed smile like she had shared too much. "I'll be fine." _

_They shared a look before they started walking again. In the distance he could still hear the sounds of the music from the main hall where the dance was starting to wind down. He looked out onto the water to admire the way the moonlight was reflected on the water when there was some movement behind them. He turned around to see his friend Matt with his arm wrapped around a girl. _

_The couple stopped short at the sight of Martin and Sarah. Matt smiled and said, "Oops, sorry," before spinning the girl around and walking back towards the cabins. _

_He smiled nervously at the sight of Matt's awkward fumbling with the girl. He turned towards Sarah to crack a joke when she met his eyes and blurted out, "I'm not going to kiss you or make out or anything."_

_He stared back at her, dumbstruck. _

"_Oh-kay," he replied, jamming his hands into his pockets, feeling equally hurt and confused. He hadn't even really thought that they might kiss but just knowing that she wasn't even going to consider it was a harsher blow to his ego. _

_She must have sensed his hurt because she gave him a soft, apologetic look and said, "I'm sorry, it's just I wanted to make that clear because I know some girls do that stuff but I don't okay."_

"_Whatever, that's fine by me," he coolly replied, trying his best to pretend he wasn't bothered by her premeditated rebuff. "Do you want me to go back to the dance?"_

_She shook her head, a remorseful look on her face. "I'm sorry, just forget I said anything. Let's keep walking okay?" _

_She turned back towards the shore and continued walking along in her bare feet. She glanced at him over her shoulder, checking to see if he would follow. He stared at her for a beat, uncertain, before finally getting into step behind her. _

_They walked in silence for a bit, the air fragrant with pine and the unique scent of water mixed with rock and sand. He reached down and picked up a small, smooth, flat dark gray stone. He got into position and flung the rock out onto the water, sending it skipping four times before it disappeared under the surface. _

_Sarah stopped walking and watched him skip stones. He picked up another rock and set it loose, trying to act like he didn't care that she was watching him while simultaneously concentrating on making sure every stone he tossed skipped. _

_He skipped two more stones and she softly asked, "You've been coming to this camp for a long time haven't you?"_

"_Since I was ten," he replied, scanning the shore for another rock. "But next year I'm not going to be just a camper. Chris and I are going to apply to be counselors."_

_He found a rock that seemed suitable and flung it. It only skipped once before sinking. He shook his head, frustrated and started searching for another one. _

"_Camp counselors? That's cool," she said, gently swinging her shoes in her hand. "You're parents must be really proud_

"_Hardly," he replied as he looked up at her and shrugged before returning his attention to the ground. "Seems to me the only time they're proud is when I do what they want me to do." He picked up a rock that while not ideal would at least give him some satisfaction to throw something. He tested the rock's weight in his hands as he continued, "They like to control every part of my life: who my friends are, what classes I take, what clubs I'm in, everything. They claim its just because they want me to live up to my potential. Or at least that's what they keep telling me." He flung the rock and it sank immediately. He frowned as he stared at the ripples in the water where the stone had sunk. "That's why I like the summer. It's a lot harder for them to hound me when they're not around."_

_Sarah stepped a little closer and softly replied, "They must really love you."_

_He stared at her, eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"_

"_They wouldn't care so much about what you do if they didn't love you," she replied matter-of-factly. _

"_Whatever you say," he mocked as he picked up another rock and tossed it. This time it skipped several times before going under. _

_Sarah grew quiet and furrowed her brow but didn't say anything, she just watched as he continued skipping stones. _

_After a few minutes she stepped closer so she was standing right next to him and softly asked, "How do you do that?" _

"_What?" he asked as he crouched down, rubbing his hand over the stones to try and find a good one. _

"_How do you make the rocks skip over the water like that?" _

"_Oh that? It's easy." He found two flat rocks and walked over to her. "The secret is you need a good rock." He held them out for her to see. "You want them to have a smooth surface, so they're nice and flat." He dropped them onto the palm of her hand. "Here, try it."_

_He watched as she tossed a rock out into the water where it sunk immediately. She released a disappointed sigh before bending over to pick up another rock from the shore. "So what about your parents? Do they show you they love you by insisting on knowing about everything you plan to do with you life?"_

_She paused mid throw and quietly replied, "I don't think my dad cares what I do as long as I don't bug him," before hurling the stone into the lake, dropping into the water with a loud splash. _

"_What about your mom?"_

_Sarah shrugged and pretended to study the shore, looking for skipping stones as she replied, "She's not around. She died giving birth to me." She found some rocks and stood up to hand him one. "What about this one?"_

"_I'm sorry about your mom," he softly replied as he took the rock. _

_They shared a sad look when she got a tough look on her face. "It's alright." She sighed heavily and met his eyes. "You don't know how lucky you are to have parents who care too much than not at all."_

_He stared back at her and softly replied, "I guess I never thought of it that way." She gave him a gentle smile and not knowing what else to say he simply took the rock and inspected it. "This is a good one."_

_She smiled proudly as he skipped it out onto the water. He bent over and picked up a few more good ones, skipping them out onto the water. "So you and your dad aren't close?"_

_She shook her head. "All my dad cares about is his work. He's a partner in a law firm so he's always at the office." She picked up a rock that was too large to use for skipping and hurled it into the lake. They both watched as it made a loud splash and sunk. "It's like he doesn't even want to look at me. Like it hurts him to see my face or something." _

_She turned to face him and not knowing what to say he just met her eyes, sharing a sympathetic look. After a look beat she smiled and hunched her shoulders up to her ears and said, "Sorry, that got way serious didn't it?" _

"_It's alright," he replied with a small smile. He reached down and grabbed a handful of stones. He sifted through the rocks and pulled out the best ones, holding them out for her. "Here, these ones are perfect."_

_She moved closer to the water's edge and tossed one out onto the water. It sunk as soon as it hit the water. _

_He stepped up next to her and said, "You're not doing it right. It's all in the wrist." He reached out and took her hand, carefully bending her fingers and wrist. Her skin was soft against his fingertips. "You have to keep the stone flat and then you flick it," he moved her hand with his, "See just like this." _

_She looked down at his hand on hers and then looked up at him. He gave her an encouraging smile when she suddenly tiptoed up and kissed him softly on the lips. She tasted like the punch she had been drinking and cherry flavored Chapstick. _

_She stepped back and he stared down at her, his lips curved up into a smile. "I thought you weren't going to kiss me."_

_She just shrugged and gave him a coy smile before she stepped away and got back to skipping stones. He watched as she flicked her wrist and sent the stone flying, skipping six times before going under. _

XoXoX

"You didn't get any sleep did you?" Sam asked as she eyed him across the elevator.

Martin looked over at her, deflated that all the effort he made getting ready for work was useless. He thought he was covering his tracks; he made sure to shower, shave, he used Visine eye drops to take the pink out of his sleepless eyes, and in a final act of desperation he stole a smattering of her eye cream from her overnight bag to reduce the puffiness.

And yet, here he stood in the elevator busted by Special Agent Samantha Spade and her keen investigative skills.

He debated on whether to lie or tell the truth before finally settling on the somewhere in between. "I got enough."

She narrowed her eyes at him and he could almost see her gears spinning on whether or not to drop the issue when he was saved by the ding of the elevator doors announcing they arrived on their floor. He quickly exited and walked quickly down the hall to the bullpen.

Danny and Viv were already there, each seated at the conference table with their eyes glued to the monitor on the laptop. They both looked up at Martin and Sam and waved them over.

"We think we might know who the third boy is," Danny excitedly said.

"How?" Martin asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Danny.

Viv turned the laptop around so it was facing him as Sam sat down next to him. "We got the work history on Dodd and found out all the states where he has lived and worked. We cross referenced them with missing boys between the ages of 11 and 15 matching," she paused for a split second as she eyed Martin before finishing, "the descriptions of his previous victims."

Martin stared at the image of young boy on the monitor. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, dimples, and fair skin. He looked like Martin, Chris, Kevin and the other thirteen boys that Dodd had targeted. In other words, he fit the profile of Dodd's type.

He listened as Danny explained, "This is Ben Forrester. He was 13 years old when he disappeared from State College, Pennsylvania in September 1989. He was never found."

"It also seems that Dodd spent a semester at Penn State doing research on geology in 1989," Viv continued, handing Samantha a file folder before looking at Martin. "It's a long shot but I think it's worth pursuing."

Martin nodded in agreement when he heard Jack's voice behind him. "I'm glad you agree. I have Dodd waiting for us in the interview room."

He turned around to see Jack hovering nearby, holding a file folder. He met the man's eyes and asked, "Us? He's not going to go for that. We said I'd go back to one on one's if he led us to Kevin's body."

Jack folded his arms over his broad chest. "I'd like to ask him some questions about Ben first." He jerked his head for Martin to stand up. "I'd also like to ask you some questions, too."

Danny and Viv gave him a sympathetic look as he scooted his chair back and stood up. He started to turn when Sam reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. He looked down at her to find her eyes on him, worried.

"I'll be fine," he said as he gently pulled his hand out of her hold and followed Jack into the hallway. They started walking down the hall to the interview rooms when he felt Jack's eyes on him. "What's up?"

Jack eyed him carefully. "I thought I told you to get some sleep."

"I did."

Jack stared back at him with a cool evaluating look. "You still look tired."

He shrugged, leaving the comment alone as they reached the one-way mirror. He looked inside to see Dodd sitting at the table. He looked very different than he had in the past two days. He looked tired and fragile and sick. It was almost easy to feel sorry for him, to see him as an old man being held all night in an interview room without any sleep. Almost.

"We can hold off for a little while if you need some time, maybe take a cat nap," Jack offered. He smirked and added, "I'll even let you use the sofa in my office."

Martin shook his head. "I said I'm fine."

Jack released a heavy sigh and replied, "Well than let's do this."

The two men walked around and entered the interview room. Dodd smiled at Martin as he walked in but his smile quickly faded when he saw Jack enter next.

"I thought we had an understanding," Dodd told Martin, a hurt expression on his face. "I took you to Kevin and now we go back to one and ones."

Jack dropped the folder onto the tabletop and said, "The deal was you would tell us who those three boys are and where we could find them but we never talked about what would happen if we found out first."

"What do you mean?" Dodd asked, his eyes darting between Jack and Martin.

Martin remained quiet, also unsure where Jack was going but willing to let him take the lead.

Jack opened up the folder and began laying out four pictures, one that Martin immediately recognized as that of Ben Forrester. "We are reopening the case of these boys, one of which we think may be your third victim."

Dodd looked hungrily over all the photos of the similar looking boys. He picked up one of the other boy's photos and said, "My, my, what an attractive looking array of photos. It's a veritable treat for the eyes."

The coffee in Martin's belly churned as he watched Dodd pick up another photo with a delighted smile on his face. He felt nauseous at the sight of him when he noticed it: Dodd may have been picking up the photos of the other boys but his gaze kept falling back to Ben's photo still laying on the table. It was in his effort to ignore Ben's photo that he gave away his hand and that's when Martin knew that was Jack's intention all along. A murderer, particularly a serial one, would relish the chance to revisit their victim, a chance to relive the sensation through memory and even as hard as Dodd tried to pretend he didn't recognize Ben Forrester he could not stop looking at his image.

Dodd lowered the two photos he was holding and slid them back towards Jack. "I appreciate you showing them to me but I'm not going to help you along. We had a deal, I only talk to Martin."

"Than talk to me," Martin replied, reaching over and sliding Ben's photo back towards Dodd. "Tell me, does this boy belong to you?"

Dodd's lips slowly curled into a smile. "I like that phrase, 'belong to me.'"

"We already think he does so why not just answer the question so I can spend less time chasing leads," his throat went raw as he finished, "and more time talking to you."

Dodd studied Martin's face before finally answering, "Yes, he does belong to me. He is one of my boys."

"Then tell us what we want to know," Martin pressed.

Dodd stared back at him for a long beat before he replied, "You know how this game is played. I will only answer your questions if I am certain you will answer mine." He turned to look at Jack and added, with punctuated words, "Alone. One on one."

Martin glanced at Jack, silently telling him to leave. Jack's eyes moved between him and Dodd, unsure, before he nodded and stood up, exiting the room.

"Okay go," Martin said with his eyes fixed on Dodd. "What's your question?"

Dodd clasped his hands together and brought them to his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yesterday you said you remembered me. Tell me, what do you remember about that day?"

He swallowed. "I remember you teaching us how to track wild animals. I remember that you said you were impressed by my tracking knowledge."

"I was," Dodd replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I am. You were one of the best boys I had ever met. I remember seeing you interact with the other kids. It was like you were the leader and they all wanted to be like you. You were so boisterous and full of life. You exuded confidence." He winked and finished, "It was a real turn on."

Martin felt his shoulders tense up and he unconsciously clenched up his hands into fists. Anger flooded over him but the voice in his head reminded him to keep in control. He worked his jaw and through gritted teeth he asked, "Where is Ben?"

"Ben is somewhere in Allegheny National Forest," Dodd vaguely said before shifting in his seat, never taking his eyes off of Martin. "Now, what did you think of me?"

"I remember thinking that you were nice," Martin replied, guilt flooding over him once again. "Where in the Allegheny Forest is he?"

Dodd grinned, the wrinkles around his lips bunching together as his lips exposed his yellowed teeth that made his blood shot eyes ever more pronounced. "You thought I was nice. Hmm? And what do you think of me now?"

"You still haven't answered my question," Martin deflected.

"Question? Oh yes, about where Ben is buried," Dodd replied before leaning forward and meeting Martin's eyes. "You know what? I feel like getting some fresh air. How about we take another trip so I can show you exactly where he is?"

Martin debated but in the end he decided that since yesterday Dodd kept true to his word. He nodded, stood up and headed for the door. "I'll go make the arrangements. Same rules as yesterday."

"You still haven't answered my question," Dodd announced as Martin reached the door.

Martin put his hand on the doorknob, gripping in tightly in his hand. He looked over at Dodd, bit the inside of his cheek and breathed out, "I hate you. I wish you were dead."

"Well now my feelings are hurt," Dodd replied with a smile. He sighed and airily waved his hand around before cryptically adding, "But don't worry, I won't be alive much longer."

XoXoXoX

A/N: Thank you all for the generous and kind reviews. I totally appreciate it.


	10. Chapter 10

XoXoXoX

_Lean on me when you're not strong  
__And I'll be your friend  
__I'll help you carry on_

'Lean On Me' – Bill Withers

XoXoXoX

Chapter 10

XoXoXoX

"…_and the house caught fire," Brent said in his creepiest voice. He was wearing a dark navy blue hoody with the hood draped over his head and he held a flashlight under his chin to give his face an eerie spooky glow. His voice was low and dark as he continued telling the ghost story, "A young daughter was trapped in the house, and the only way to escape was through a wall of flames…"_

_Martin restrained a smile at seeing Brent try so hard to make the story "The Screaming Tunnel" sound scary. He could still remember the first time he heard it, he had a hard time sleeping that night. But now, four summers later, he had heard it so many times it was now more amusing to watch the newer camper's nervous faces. _

_Brent turned to look at a few of the younger girls who were crowded together on a log, clutching each other fearfully. In a panicked nervous tone he said, "The brave young girl covered her face with her arms and ran into the fiery doorway. Her long hair and her long nightgown began to smolder as she burst through the flames and rushed out of the house!"_

_Martin looked to his left to see Casey clutching onto Chris, looking terrified. Chris met Martin's eyes and smiled. He had heard this story as many times as he had so he was more than happy to play the noble, strong guy who would protect Casey from fictional narratives. _

_Martin just shook his head and looked at Sarah who was sitting to her left she was staring at Brent, wickedly curious but not looking the least bit afraid. She turned to look at him and smiled, shaking her head amusedly. _

_He smiled back thinking that she looked so pretty in the tranquil light of the campfire; the colorful embers creating fascinating shadows on her face. _

_Brent stood up and Martin shifted his attention to him. He knew this part of the ghost story well. This was when Brent would walk around the fire, carefully meeting everyone's face to try and increase the stories ominous tone. _

_He kept the flashlight under his chin and slowly crept towards where each group of kids sat on the logs. "When the night air struck her smoldering clothing, it burst into flames, enveloping the girl in a raging inferno. The girl screamed in agony and ran blindly down the hill, away from the fire-stricken house. She staggered into the tunnel under the train tracks, her screams echoing and re-echoing through the night"_

_He walked over towards Casey and Chris and Martin watched as Brent leaned in and stared directly at Casey as he talked. "Overcome by the flames, the girl fell to the floor of the tunnel," his inflection reached an high pitch, "She was wailing in agony and she rolled frantically on the floor of the tunnel, trying to douse the flames." He looked over at Martin who was doing his best to remain stoic as Brent spoke. "But her efforts were weak and ineffective. She was quickly overcome, and burned to death in the tunnel under the tracks."_

_Martin could feel his lips twitching as a light laugh threatened to escape. Brent narrowed his eyes at him in a silent plea to not ruin the cadence of the story. So Martin obliged by biting his bottom lip and lowering his eyes. _

_Brent then moved on to Sarah and finished, "And after that night, anyone that dares strike a match in the tunnel under the tracks will hear the agonized death screams of the burning girl," as he talked he slowly raised his free hand up to the flashlight, "and a ghostly wind will instantly blow out the match." _

_He clicked off his flashlight and released a high pitched scream, "AUGH!!"_

_Martin and Chris both burst into laughter as most of the other campers all screamed before joining in the laughter. _

_Brent shrugged off his hoody and said, "Alright, that's the last one. I got nothing else." He turned his flashlight back on and looked around. "Now everyone go back to your cabins and get to bed."_

_Everyone picked up their things and started back towards their cabins. Martin polished off the last of his __s'more, savoring the deliciously sugary taste of crispy graham crackers and warm melted marshmallow with gooey chocolate. _

"_That story gets better every year," Chris said with his arm casually swung over Casey shoulder. _

"_The hoody was a nice touch," Martin replied as they all started walking up the trail when Sarah came around to walk beside him._

_He noticed that her hands were hanging loosely at her side and he contemplated reaching out to hold one of them when she shoved them in her jacket pocket and said, "It's chilly tonight."_

_Needing to do something with his hands now, he shoved his into his own pockets and replied, "Yeah." _

_Casey slumped against Chris as they walked and said, "That story really gave me the creeps."_

"_Come on, those stories are so ridiculous," Chris playfully argued. "It's like that one, what's it called?" He looked over at Martin. "That one Steve always tells with the guy attacking the couple in the car?" _

"_The Hook," Martin replied, sharing a bemused smile with Chris. They thought the only reason Steve always selected that as his campfire story was because he always tacked on a cautionary warning about the dangers of kids sneaking off to secluded areas to do things they shouldn't be doing. _

"_Yeah, that's the one," Chris said, looking back at Casey. "Every town in America tells that story but no one ever knows someone who has been attacked or was a victim."_

"_Exactly," Sarah agreed. "It's just a silly story to scare kids."_

_Martin kept quiet and just listened, unsure. He had overheard enough of his father's conversations with agents in the bureau to know that sometimes bad things can happen. _

_Chris pulled Casey into a tight hug and loudly said, "It's stupid to waste time being scared of stuff that is never going to happen to you."_

XoX

After the FBI jet touched down and taxi'd to the hanger Martin and Danny exited after Jack. Behind them, Kyle escorted a handcuffed Dodd down the plane's stairs. In the parking area just outside the hanger they were greeted with several bureau cars, a few black and whites, and a forensics van. Jack ordered Danny to take Dodd to one of the waiting cars while he and Kyle talked to local enforcement about their plans.

Martin lingered off to the side, not ready to deal directly with Dodd or local police. He watched as Danny escorted Dodd to one of the cars. Dodd was smiling at the officers as if he were one of the retirees who worked as greeters at WalMart and not a murderer who was about to lead them to the body of one of his victims. During the flight they had to cuff Dodd's hands in front since he wasn't a threat. Martin was worried about being in such close proximity to Dodd in the tiny aircraft but as soon as the plane lifted off he fell asleep, not waking until they were ready to land.

They agreed to leave his handcuffs as they were for the drive to Allegheny.

When they reached the car Danny sat him down in the backseat and slammed the back door sealing Dodd inside before leaning against the side of the car, holding guard.

Martin closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck trying to get the kinks out when he felt a hand tap him on the back. He opened his eyes and turned around to find Jack staring at him.

"Listen, we have some snags," Jack said grimly. "Pennsylvania PD is giving us a hard time about jurisdiction." He held up his cell phone and said, "Kyle and I are going to be on the phone with them trying to cut through all this red tape while we drive out to Allegheny." He released a heavy breath and glanced over to where Danny stood next to the bureau sedan. "I'm going to send you and Danny in one car with Dodd while Kyle and I follow from behind."

"Okay," Martin replied.

"I'd rather ride with you but I don't want local police to interfere and I don't want Dodd to listen in on my conversation with them," Jack explained, hesitant. "But are going to be okay talking to him on the drive?"

"Yeah," Martin confidently replied, slightly annoyed that Jack would have such little faith in his ability to remain in control. "But don't worry. Danny will be there to keep watch over me."

Jack stared back at him, hesitant and unsure before finally replying, "Let's roll."

Martin walked over to the sedan where Dodd was seated in the backseat. He threw Dodd and hard look and said to Danny, "Looks like it's me and you."

Danny nodded and opened the door, getting behind the steering wheel and soon they were on their way.

For most of the ride the car was quiet, only the sounds of the cracking of the radio could be heard. But when they turned onto Route 321 suddenly Dodd began speaking.

"I had forgotten how much I like Pennsylvania," Dodd idly commented as they rode through Allegheny. He leaned his head against his window and stared at the scenery outside. "It's so green and lush here."

Martin's eyes darted to Dodd but he kept quiet, simply working his jaw as he continued to stare straight ahead. Keep in control, he reminded himself.

"That's the one sad thing about growing older," he continued. "With these old knees of mine I can't hike the mountains and hills the way I used to when I was younger," he paused and added, "There are a lot of things I can't do anymore."

In his peripheral vision Martin could see the old man tilt his head to the side to study his face but he refused to look at him.

"You never asked me why I stopped," Dodd commented.

This time Martin couldn't help himself and he turned to face him.

"I stopped because I was getting too old. The boys didn't trust me anymore. They just thought I was some silly old man," he replied, sounding equally indignant and saddened. He met Martin's eyes and said, "But believe me, I never gave up trying. I still try to this day."

Martin stared into the man's eyes as they were cold and dead.

"I miss the thrill every single day," Dodd said, smiling the most evil smile Martin had ever imagined possible. "The feel of their skin, the look in their eyes when they knew what I was going to do to them. The way they would beg me to stop. I miss it so much."

Martin knew he should tell Dodd to shut up but he couldn't bring himself to speak, he was frozen as a well of rage bubbled up inside of him.

Dodd leaned closer and in a voice as soft as a whisper he said, "You know what?" He paused, as if Martin would ask him before he finished, "Chris had the smoothest skin of them all."

Before he knew he was doing it, Martin leaned over the front car seat, grabbed Dodd by the front of his shirt and punched him squarely in his face. His knuckles cracked as he made impact and he pulled his arm back to do it once more.

He suddenly felt Danny's hand grabbing at his arm, trying to stop him from hitting Dodd again. When he tried to yank free he felt his fist hit flesh and heard Danny grunt. Somewhere in the back of his sleep-deprived mind he knew he had accidentally hit his friend but he was too fueled with adrenaline and fury and the compulsion to inflict harm on Dodd he refused to be distracted.

He hit Dodd again when suddenly the car swerved and he was jostled to the side, Dodd slipping out of his grasp. The car came to a screeching halt and Martin quickly righted himself and tried to return to his assault on Dodd.

The man just continued to laugh and egg Martin on each time Martin's fist made contact with his face. This only increased Martin's rage until all he could see, hear or think was vengeance. He was half-way over the seat as he continued his assault when he felt a pair of hands come up from behind, slipping under his armpits putting him in a vise grip.

"Stop it!" Danny shouted, dragging him out of the car and shoving him against the trunk.

"Let go of me!" Martin shouted sounding heated and irrational in his own ears. He tried to wrestle free, knocking Danny's sunglasses off in the process.

"I said you need to stop!" Danny grunted, pinning him in place.

With nostrils flaring and his heart racing he finally settled enough to hear what Danny was telling him. "Alright! I'm okay!" he shouted. "I'm fine."

Danny released him from his grasp but looked ready to pounce if provoked.

He took a few steps, pacing to try and cool his anger. He could see Dodd wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand and he felt an intense feeling of satisfaction knowing that he was able to make him bleed, make him feel a little of the pain he was feeling. He was so focused on Dodd that he didn't even see Jack stalking towards him until he grabbed him by the jacket and shoved him away from the group.

"I knew this was a mistake," Jack growled. "You are losing control."

"I'm fi…"

"You are not fine," Jack interrupted.

Martin scoffed. "You're one to talk, Jack. You make all cases personal and this one literally is for me!"

"You're right," Jack agreed through gritted teeth. "But you aren't me, Martin, and you don't want to be." He pushed him back towards a nearby fallen log and said, "You need to sit here and cool off. Kyle and I will get Dodd to take us to Ben. I don't want to see you anywhere near the scene until you get it under control!"

Martin sat down and watched as Jack said something to Kyle and Danny. Danny nodded while Kyle removed Dodd from their car and escorted him into the backseat of theirs. His breathing was labored and he closed his eyes trying to catch his breath as well as ignore the concerned looks of the other agents.

His breathing finally slowed down when he heard footsteps headed his way and knew that Danny was walking over to where he sat.

He felt his friend sit down next to him so he cracked open an eye and asked, "You alright?"

Danny rubbed his jaw and smiled. "I'll be fine. Fortunately I grew up in a tough neighborhood where I learned how to take a hit." He dropped his hand and asked, "What about you, gringo? You gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," Martin breathed out, shaking his head. "I really wanted to hurt him. If you hadn't pulled me off of him…" he trailed off, still too raw to say the words aloud.

"I don't blame you," Danny said softly; his voice comforting and assuring. "I wanted to hurt him, too."

They sat in silence as the caravan of police vehicles started up again and drove past. Martin watched the taillights of the crime scene van disappear around the bend until they were all gone.

He didn't know how long they were just sitting there, alone in silence, when Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out his broken sunglasses. He fiddled with the bent frame until the left temple finally broke off.

"Sorry about your sunglasses," Martin said apologetically. "I'll buy you a new pair."

"Great," he replied, dropping the broken frames into Martin's hand. "They're Ray Ban and I got them at Barney's."

"Barney's, huh?" Martin queried, holding up the sunglasses and studying them. "Because according to the inscription on the side it reads 'Ray Ben' and they look remarkably like the kind of knockoffs you can buy in Chinatown."

Danny snatched the glasses back and shoved them into his pocket. "I don't know what you are talking about but if you are going to be cheap and argue with me than fine, don't buy me new ones."

Despite his dark mood Martin laughed and eventually Danny joined him.

"You remind me of him you know," he said earnestly. Danny looked at him questioningly and he clarified, "You remind me of Chris."

"Really?" Danny replied, interested. "So he was smart, handsome, funny, charismatic, had a great sense of style…"

"And humble too," Martin teased before growing quiet and thoughtful again. "But besides all those obvious things, he was a lot like you. He didn't give up his friendship easily but when he became your friend he was unwavering in his loyalty."

"Sounds like I would've liked him," Danny replied.

"Yeah," Martin said with a slow nod. "I mean, I'm sure you would've given him a hard time first but, yeah, I'm sure if you knew him now you would want to invite him to watch a game or go grab a burger."

Danny gave him a gentle smile and pat on the back as they both grew quiet again.

Finally, feeling much calmer than before, Martin stood up and dusted off his trousers. "We should get going."

"Are you sure you're ready?" Danny asked, squinting up at him. "We can just sit here a little while longer."

"I'm as ready as I will ever be," Martin quietly replied. He stared in the direction where the cars had gone and breathed out, "Besides, I just want this to be over already." He looked back down at Danny and corrected, "I need this to be over."


	11. Chapter 11

XoXoXoX

_To tell the world that you were here  
Cause the love and the laughter  
Will live long after  
All of the sadness and the tears  
We'll meet again, my old friend_

'My Old Friend' – Tim McGraw

XoXoXoX

Chapter 11

XoXoXoX

"_Will you hurry up already?" Chris urged, anxiously hovering near the doorway. "I told Casey I'd meet her at the lake so we could get paired up in the same canoe." _

_Martin rolled his eyes and looked over at Chris. He was kneeling in front of the big box labeled "Lost and Found" and grumbled, "Heaven forbid you and Casey have to be separated for one canoe ride." _

"_Come on. You can look for your baseball cap another time," Chris pleaded. He glanced out the window to where the kids were starting down the path. "You know Steve never waits for anyone."_

_Martin shot his friend a look and said, "Just go already. I'm almost done digging through this junk. I'll just meet you there." _

_Chris got an excited look on his face but still asked, "You sure?" _

"_Yeah, just get out of here," he replied, pulling out a hiking boot and sweatshirt from the box. _

"_Thanks Martin," Chris replied as he pushed open the screen door and started walking out. Just before the door slammed shut he heard him say, "You're the best friend a guy could have!" _

"_Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, digging through the box. _

_He continued his search, pulling out random sandals, shorts, towels, swimsuits, earrings, and other odd things that campers had lost over the summer. Deciding that this was useless he gathered the stuff together and dumped it all back into the box. _

_He heard the screen door open up and not bothering to look over he joked, "What? Did you miss me?" _

"_Good you're still here."_

_He looked over to see Brent standing in the doorway. He affixed the lid back on the box, stood up and asked, "What's up?" _

"_Come on," Brent said, waving him over. "Your aunt and uncle are here to see you."_

"_Why?" Martin asked as he followed Brent out the door. _

"_Don't know," Brent shrugged. "I was just told to come fetch you." _

_Martin's mind was spinning as they made their way to the main cabin. As they neared he spotted his Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Roger talking on the porch with the camp manager, Ted. He saw his aunt clutching a tissue and dabbing her eyes while his uncle wrapped his arm around her, kissing her temple and whispering something in her ear. _

_This was not a good sign. _

"_I'm just going to go help, Steve," Brent said to Martin, quietly stepping away so that Martin could go talk to his aunt and uncle in private. _

"_Hi," he greeted them warily, his stomach twisted into a tight knot._

_Bonnie stepped away from Roger and pulled Martin into a big hug. "Hello sweetheart." _

_After she kissed him on the forehead she released him and he looked back and forth between them, softly asking, "What are you guys doing here? What's going on?" _

_Bonnie ran her small hand through his hair and pulled her close to him as she said, "Sweetie, your Grandma Rose had a stroke."_

_Grandma Rose was his mom's mom and not only was she his favorite grandparent but she was also the only one still alive. The last one who passed was his granddad, his dad's dad, who died when he was ten. Grandma Rose lived in a retirement community in Scottsdale, Arizona. Whenever he visited she would take him with her to the pool where she did her water aerobics and brag to her friends about all of Martin's achievements. If he got an A on a test or made a base hit in baseball, anything was cause for celebration in her eyes. _

_But more than that, she was also just as interesting to him. She would tell him stories about how she met his grandfather while rolling bandages for the USO during World War II and how she refused to date him until he came back. She said it made him be extra careful to come home. She told great jokes and had a loud booming laugh. She was also one of the few members of his family who genuinely listened to him when he talked and always encouraging him to speak his mind. _

_His throat went sore and he croaked out, "Is she going to be okay?"_

"_We don't know but she's very ill," Bonnie replied, shaking her head slowly. She brushed his hair away from his forehead and said, "We're all flying down to Scottsdale to be with her. Your parents are going there directly from London and your mom asked us to come pick you up and take you with us." _

"_You're going to have to leave camp early, kiddo," Uncle Roger said. He gave Martin a small smile that he immediately recognized as his manly code for 'buck up' and 'be strong.' _

_Ted gave Martin a small sympathetic smile and excused himself, going back into the main cabin. _

_As soon as Ted was gone Roger put his hand on Martin's shoulder and said, "Come on, we'll go help you pack."_

_Martin nodded and they all made their way to his cabin where he quickly started packing up his things. He got most of his stuff loaded when he realized that camp was over at the end of the week. _

"_I have to go find Chris," Martin announced. And Sarah, he didn't say aloud. "I need to tell him I'm leaving." _

_His aunt and uncle exchanged a look and Bonnie said, "Of course you do." She folded one of his shirts and stuffed it into his duffle bag. "You go ahead and find him and we'll finish up here. We'll meet you back at the car."_

_Martin nodded and dashed for the door when Roger yelled out, "We have to leave in ten minutes! We have a plane to catch!"_

"_Don't worry! I'll be quick!" he shouted back. _

_He ran as fast as he could towards the lake where the canoes launched. He reached the pier and saw Brent loading some of the younger kids getting into a red canoe. _

"_Hey, you're just in time," Brent greeted him, waving him over. "We were just about to head out."_

_Martin skidded to a stop in front of them. "I can't. I have to go. Family emergency." He looked around, scanning the lake. "Have you seen Chris? Or maybe Sarah?"_

_Brent shook his head. "Sorry dude, they were the first ones out. They're long gone." _

_Brent jerked his head across the lake where several canoes were paddling towards the other side. Martin knew that there was no way to get to Chris or Sarah. Their backs were to him so he couldn't even wave to try and get their attention. They were also too far out to hear him if he shouted. _

"_I can give them a message," Brent offered. _

_Deflated, Martin replied, "Just tell them…" he paused, unsure what the message should be, "Just tell them that I said goodbye." _

"_You got it, man," Brent replied as he reached out to smack Martin's hand. "See you next summer, though, right?" _

"_Yeah, of course," Martin replied, forcing a smile on his face. _

_He watched as Brent boarded the canoe, instructing the younger campers on how to properly paddle. Soon they were out on the water, drifting away. _

_Martin stood there staring at the canoes in the distance, trying to decipher which one was Chris, Casey, and Sarah's when his Uncle Roger walked up behind him and said it was time for them to go. _

XoX

The exhumation of Ben Forrester's body was surprisingly anticlimactic after his altercation with Dodd. He and Danny eventually caught up with Jack and the other agents in an open field where they had already begun digging. Dodd, perhaps from lack of sleep or from the beating he took, showed them exactly where he had buried Ben's body without any fanfare or further demands.

If Martin was worried about being provoked by Dodd again he knew the moment he stepped onto the field it wasn't likely to happen twice. Jack made it very clear that Martin wasn't allowed anywhere near him by having two other agents flanking Dodd at all times.

As he walked to where they were digging he looked over at Dodd to see that his face was red and puffy where Martin had hit him. Martin felt his hand clench into a fist again, the phantom feeling of hitting Dodd still tingling in his knuckles. There was no denying he felt a strong sense of satisfaction at having done what he had longed to do since the day the two men meet. As he walked he caught Dodd's eyes and the two men stared at each other when Dodd curled his swollen lips into a grin and winked directly at Martin.

He could feel his anger start to boil up again when his line of vision was suddenly obscured by a lanky Cuban who shot him a warning look.

"He's just trying to get a rise out of you," Danny said softly under his breath. He guided Martin towards where Jack and Kyle were standing. "The worst thing you can do is let him, just ignore it."

"Easy for you to say," Martin quipped.

"No it isn't," Danny replied.

Martin slowed his pace as the two men shared a look of understanding. In that instant he knew that Danny wasn't lying when he said that he wanted to hurt Dodd, too.

He took a deep breath and nodded, knowing that Danny was right – he needed to try and ignore Dodd. He shifted his gaze towards Jack who was standing with Kyle under the shade of a large oak tree.

As they reached Jack he gave Martin a hard, evaluating look and asked, "Are you contained?"

Martin nodded, irritated, and jerked his head towards where the forensic team was digging. "Anything yet?"

As if on cue, a member of the forensic team called out for Jack.

The four men walked across the field and stood over the site where the crew had been digging. Inside they saw the obvious skeletal remains of a pre-teen boy. They stared down at the heartbreaking remains of a life cut down too soon.

Martin's mouth went dry and he gnawed on his lower lip, trying to hold in his anger. He squeezed his hands tight and pivoted, glaring at Dodd. He was standing at a distance, looking relaxed and unconcerned. As if he had no connection to the buried body or why they were here. He watched as Dodd's tongue darted out from between his lips, licking the dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Photograph everything and then get him ready for transport," Jack ordered, redirecting Martin's attention back to the case. Kyle crouched down and started pointing out things he wanted to make sure would be fully documented when Jack stared at Martin and curtly said, "Wait here."

With that, Jack strode over to where Dodd stood with the other two agents. Martin couldn't hear what they were saying but the two agents nodded while Dodd seemed to protest. Jack stepped up to Dodd, getting in his face. Dodd shook his head and looked over at Martin before Jack moved, blocking his line of sight. Both Dodd and Jack began speaking animatedly before Dodd finally nodded and the two agents escorted him away.

Jack started walking back when Martin took long strides to meet him halfway. "What was that about? Where are they taking him?"

"To the hospital to get checked out before Kyle and I fly him back," he replied, his eyes looking past Martin to where Kyle and the forensics team were busily processing the scene.

It was the "Kyle and I" part that caught his attention.

"Don't you mean before _we_ fly him back?" Martin corrected.

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head when Danny joined them. He looked back and forth between them and explained, "You and Danny are going to drive back."

Danny nodded but kept quiet, his eyes on Martin.

"Why? Is this my punishment?" Martin growled; angered that Jack of all people was judging him for what he did to Dodd.

"This is me looking out for you," Jack brusquely replied as he pushed past him. "I know that if you get on that plane you are just going to stay awake staring at Dodd like you did on the flight over. You're exhausted."

Martin worked his tongue into his cheek and said, "This is bullshit. I should be here working the case and helping process the scene…" he trailed off and pointed in the direction that the other agents took Dodd. "I should be talking to him right now and getting him to tell me where Chris is so I can end this!"

"I'm not letting you anywhere near him until you get some rest," Jack snapped back. Martin shook his head and looked away as he geared up for another argument. Jack sighed heavily and tried to meet his eyes. "Look Martin, I know how much you want this to be over but the only victim we have left to find is your friend. The next conversation you have with Dodd is going to be one of the toughest conversations of your life. You need to be at your best."

Martin met Jack's eyes and evenly replied, "No one knows how important this is more than me."

"This isn't up for debate. Get going," Jack ordered.

"I can do this, Jack."

"I said no," he flatly replied as he started walking away, his focus on the scene. Over his shoulder he said, "At least this way I know you are going to get some goddamn sleep on that six hour drive back to the city."

"You can't treat me like a child!" Martin shouted.

Jack stopped and turned around to look at him. "I'm not. I'm treating you like one of my agents who isn't functioning at his full capacity. So get some sleep and then you can get back to work." He jerked his chin in the direction of the parked cars and said, "If you guys get going now we might all get back to New York around the same time."

That said, Jack turned around and joined the forensic team, dismissing him.

Martin shook his head angrily and then spun around on his heels and stormed back to the car.


	12. Chapter 12

XoXoXoX

_He was a friend of mine  
Every time I think about him now  
Lord I just can't keep from crying  
'cause he was a friend of mine_

'He Was a Friend of Mine' – Bob Dylan

XoXoXoX

Chapter 12

XoXoXoX

_Martin peddled his BMX bike quickly down the street. It felt good to be back at home and in his neighborhood after spending the last few weeks at his grandmother's house in Scottsdale. He didn't get to see her very much, though. Not that there was much to see. By the time they had arrived she had slipped into a coma. It was hard to see his once vital and lively grandma lying on a hospital bed looking frail and weak, connected to machines that beeped and whirred. He was unsure of his role in all the drama so he just lingered back, preoccupying himself by helping take care of his little cousin, Jamie. _

_Not that it mattered much. There were always nurses and doctors crowding her small bedroom having serious discussions with his mom and Aunt Bonnie. And whenever he was nearby they would lower their voices to hushed whispers making him feel like an outside observer intruding on a private moment. _

_He was out with his dad and uncle getting lunch when she died. They got back to the hospital, his dad and uncle carrying cardboard trays loaded with soda and coffee and him holding bags filled with sandwiches and potato chips to find his Aunt Bonnie and his mom standing in the lobby, hugging each other tightly as they sobbed. Jamie sat on a chair in the corner, looking confused by it all. _

_He just stood there as his dad and uncle put the trays down on the nurse's station counter before slowly walking over, each hugging his own wife as she wept. Unsure what to do he just walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, still holding the bags, when Jamie walked over and asked if he remembered to get her a grilled cheese. _

_He could barely remember the funeral. By the time all the arrangements had been made, family contacted, and the services were over, they had to start packing up her house. It would be another week before they finally settled everything, deciding what stuff Bonnie would keep and what stuff would go to his mom. _

_He was so happy to leave that sadness behind and get home to Arlington. He never thought he would be so thrilled to see his own bedroom and sleep on his own mattress. _

_A couple of days after they got home he waited until his parents left for work and then hopped on his bike in search of any of his friends, hoping they were back from their own vacations by now. A short while later he had managed to corral enough of the neighborhood kids to comprise a flag football team. Together they wiled away the day playing football before heading to his friend Will's house to practice bike stunts on his makeshift driveway ramp. _

_He slowed his bike as he neared home, gliding onto his driveway and around to the back of the house when he spotted his mom's Mercedes parked in the garage. He hit the brakes and stepped off, letting his bike fall to the ground. He checked his watch: 4:13 pm. He thought it was strange that she was home already but figured that she was taking it easy on her first day back at work._

_He walked up to the back door that led into the kitchen and entered, making a straight beeline for the refrigerator. He swung the door open, the cool air soothing his hot, sweaty face, and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade. He walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass when he heard his mom's voice behind him. _

"_How was your day?"_

_He looked over his shoulder to see her standing at the island in the kitchen, no longer wearing her Chanel dress suit for work but casually dressed in tan slacks and a pale blue button up shirt. He returned his attention to pouring and replied, "Pretty good." He set the pitcher down on the counter and picked up his glass, taking a drink. "Will's dad got a new car and Paul got braces." He walked over to where she was standing and grinned. "He looks pretty funny." _

_He couldn't help but notice that she had had been crying, a sight all too familiar these last few weeks. He lowered his glass and sympathetically asked, "Were you thinking about grandma again?" _

_She gave him a small sad smile and shook her head. "No, sweetheart, not this time." _

"_Than why were you crying?" _

_He saw her eyes well up again and she motioned for him to sit with her at the kitchen table. She ran her fingers over her pearl necklace and said, "Martin, sweetheart, come sit with me. We need to talk." _

_It was the use of the word 'sweetheart' that made him nervous. His mom almost never used words like that if she had something good to tell him. He slowly shuffled his way towards her. "What's going on? Is this about Grandma's funeral? Because I really don't know who ate all the shrimp cocktails." _

"_It's not about that," she replied with a small smile. _

_He didn't know why but with every single step he took his feet felt heavier and heavier and he felt an overwhelming urge to leave the room. Something about this all felt very wrong. He pulled out a chair and sat down, resting his hands on the table top. "So what is it?"_

_She took a deep breath and said, "I got a call from your Aunt Bonnie today."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah," she replied softly, making him even more nervous. She hated it when he used slang and always corrected him. Hearing her use the word 'yeah' was strange and discomforting. "She called and told me something that I have to tell you," she paused, reaching out to take his hands in hers, meeting his eyes. "I don't know how to say this, Martin, so I am just going to come out and say it okay?"_

_He nodded his head and waited with bated breath. _

"_Martin, your friend from camp," she began. _

"_Chris?" he interrupted. "What about him?"_

"_There was an accident," she softly said, gently caressing his hand with her thumbs. "Honey, I'm so sorry but he drowned." _

"_What are you saying?" he asked, certain that he misunderstood. _

"_Chris went swimming by himself and the current was too strong and he got pulled under," she carefully explained, never one taking her eyes off his face. "It was too much for him and he drowned." _

_He shook his head and yanked his hands out of her grasp. "No, he couldn't drown. He was a good swimmer. He was a better swimmer than me!"_

_Her voice went very firm, as if he would comprehend her better, and she said again, "I'm sorry, Martin, but Chris is dead." _

_He stood up and shouted, "You're lying!"_

"_I'm not lying," she tiredly replied. _

"_Than Aunt Bonnie is!" he replied, stepping away from her as if she was toxic. "How does she know anyway? Maybe someone's playing a joke on her."_

"_This is no joke," she replied, switching tactics. She took a deep breath and leaned forward in her chair, watching him cautiously. "She said that when she got home she started going through all her phone messages and that Chris' parents called looking for you." She wiped a fallen tear from her cheek and said, "Remember they used to live next door to your aunt and uncle? It was the only phone number they had."_

_There were so many thoughts bouncing through his mind he found it almost impossible to latch onto one. He finally found his voice and asked, "When?"_

_His mom licked her lips and breathed, "The day after you left." _

_One day. The one day he wasn't there. They did everything together and if he had been there he knew that Chris would be okay. _

_He shook his head again, unwilling or maybe unable to believe a word of it. "No, this is a mistake." _

_His mom stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Honey, I'm so sorry but he's gone." _

_He tried to break out of her embrace but she just held him tighter until all of his strength drained out of him and he couldn't even get his arms up to try and push her away. "You're wrong. He's a good swimmer. I know he is…and…"_

_He couldn't manage another word as his throat went raw, tight with grief as tears welled up in his eyes before falling in a steady stream. His mom pulled him closer to her, planting soft kisses on the crown of his head as she whispered, "I'm so sorry."_

_With tears spilling down his cheeks he cried, "I didn't even get to tell him goodbye." _

XoX

Martin's arms were folded across his chest as he sat stiffly in the passenger seat as Danny drove the sedan along the highway. It felt like they were going at a snail's pace so he shifted in his seat to take a peek at the speedometer, his foot pressing down on a phantom accelerator.

"Stop it," Danny grumbled, shooting him a dirty look. "If you are going to be a stubborn ass and refuse to sleep at least stop backseat driving."

Martin sighed heavily and mumbled, "Sorry."

He didn't know how he could get any sleep. He was still too pumped up from the events of the day to concentrate on anything but his inevitable conversation with Dodd. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and kept his gaze fixed on the highway.

They drove in silence for a bit when Danny carefully said, "If you don't want to sleep, fine, but you need to at least try and relax. You're wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch. This is a long ride and there is nothing you or I can do from this car so recline your seat and just try."

He released a heavy breath and reached for the handle on the side of his seat, reclining the chair a few inches. He rubbed his shoulder, soothing out the tension knots and said, "It's not that I don't want to sleep, you know."

Danny adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and nodded. "I know." He glanced at him and said, "The thing is Martin, Jack's right. You look like hell and if you don't get some sleep, even a few hours, you aren't going to be able to think clearly or even track your thoughts. Dodd's a son-of-bitch and he is doing everything he can to get in your head and the more you don't sleep the easier it is for him."

"I've tried but I can't get the image of Chris out of my mind," he breathed, looking at the blur of trees outside his window.

Danny nodded knowingly and went quiet for a beat before he sat up straight and said, "I have an idea, an old trick my Abuelita taught me. Close your eyes."

Martin rolled his head to the side and cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Danny grinned and ordered again, "Just do it. Close your eyes or I won't be able to do this."

He sighed and slumped further into his seat, closing his eyes. "So what now?"

"Okay, I'm going to tell you the story she always told me to get me to sleep."

He opened his eyes and frowned. "You do know how creepy this feels don't you?"

"What did I tell you?"

Martin looked at him, unsure, before leaning back and clamping his eyes shut.

Danny cleared his throat and began, "Había un pequeño chico…" he paused and corrected himself, "Sorry. I'm used to hearing this in Spanish. Anyway, there was a boy who grew up on a sugar cane farm. One day his grandmother wanted to make a cake so she told him to take a wheelbarrow full of sugar cane to the next farm and trade for some eggs."

It took all his self-restraint to not tell Danny to just stop talking. He felt ridiculous listening to a child's bedtime story but he promised him he would at least give it a shot.

"The little boy said okay and started walking off to collect the cane when his abuela called him back and said she wasn't done yet." Danny paused again and he could feel the car move left and he knew they were changing lanes. "She tells him that after he gets the eggs he should set six aside and take the rest to the next farm over. When he gets there he should trade the eggs for some fresh cream…"

Martin felt his body slacken, feeling almost weightless as the car sped along in time with the cadence of Danny's voice, his eyelids growing heavy.

"Martin?"

He opened his eyes and saw Sam watching him with a bemused smile. He sat up and realized that while he was still in the passenger seat of the car, the car was now parked in the garage at the bureau building back in New York.

"Hey," he croaked out as he sat up and rubbed his hand over his face. He looked at Sam who was sitting in the driver's seat, her body curved towards his. "How long was I out?"

It seemed Danny's abuela's bedtime story was the magic trick. He slept. He didn't feel rested exactly but his mind wasn't as muddled as it had been. He felt weary but aware, fatigued but not wiped out.

"Almost five hours," she replied. "But don't worry. I forgive you for sleeping with someone else," she grinned as she reached over and touched his cheek, "Just promise me he'll be good to you."

He put his hand over hers, pressing it to his cheek. "He meant nothing to me."

She smiled and he released her hand. She rested her head against the headrest. "I'm glad you slept."

They shared a look and he asked, "Are they back?"

She nodded. "Jack has Dodd in an interview room upstairs."

"And the coroner's report on Ben?"

"Same M.O. as Kevin," she grimly replied. "And all the other boys

He nodded sadly and slumped back in his seat. Dodd was upstairs waiting for him, waiting to have their final conversation. His stomach churned nervously. Resolved, he put his hand on the latch and opened his door, exiting the car. Behind him he heard Sam open her own door.

It felt good to be standing and he raised his hands above his head and stretched.

"You don't have to do this now," Sam said, her eyes watching him over the top of the car. "He will still be there in the morning."

He shook his head. "Please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't patronize me," he replied, leaning against the side of the car, meeting her eyes. "I got some sleep just like Jack ordered and now I am ready to go upstairs and do what I have to do."

She stared back at him, a worried look in her eyes before she conceded. "Okay. Let's go."

They headed up the elevator to the twelfth floor. When they de-boarded they started down the hall to the bullpen when he spotted Jack sitting in his office. He was at his desk reading through some files, his dark framed glasses perched low on his nose.

"I'll catch up," he said to Sam, jutting his chin at Jack. "I have to…"

She smiled and replied, "Good luck," before continuing on without him.

He knocked on Jack's door and pushed it open. "Got a minute?"

Jack lowered the folder, removed his glasses and waved him in. "Sure." He walked in and sat down at the chair. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel good." He nodded, humble, and apologetically said, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Jack waved him off. "You didn't say anything that isn't true."

The two men shared a look of understanding. Martin straightened up and asked, "Did Dodd say anything on the plane?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head and resting his clamped hands on his desk. "But it wasn't for lack of trying." He cleared his throat. "He clammed up and won't say a word to anyone except for you."

Martin nodded. "I didn't think he would."

Jack rubbed his chin and studied Martin carefully. "Maybe you should go home and get a few more hours of sleep. He's not going anywhere."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Jack, I know I lost it earlier but you were right, I was too tired to keep it together. But I've never felt more ready than I do right now. Let me talk to him."

Jack didn't reply; he just stared at him, uncertain.

He saw him start to shake his head so he interrupted. "Please, Jack. Don't let me spend one more day not knowing. I can't take it."

"Dodd is completely fixated on you and the more time you spend with him the more intense his feelings get," Jack said. While his words were clinical Martin couldn't ignore the concerned tone underneath.

"Than let me use that to my advantage," he replied. "I'm sure I can get him to tell me what I want to know."

"That's what concerns me," he replied, solemnly. "What will you do if he refuses to tell you? If he tries to drag this out for another day, another week, until he is on his deathbed. What then?"

"He wants this to be over, too. He led us right to Kevin and Ben in a matter of days."

"That's because you aren't connected to them. He knows as well as I do that they were just an end to the means; that your main goal since you found out has been to find your friend. If he refuses to tell you can you live with that?"

It was something he hadn't considered. It seemed impossible that Dodd would go through all this and not go the final distance. However, he honestly didn't know what he would do if Dodd refused to tell him. But he wasn't about to tell that to Jack.

He licked his lips and softly replied, "I deserve a chance to at least try."

Jack gave him a cool calculating look. Time stretched out and he finally replied, "I'm staying in the room."

"He wants one-on-ones," Martin replied.

"I know he does but I'm tired of giving him everything he wants," Jack replied, standing up. "Besides, I'd rather not risk another outburst."

Martin narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Do you think I'm that unstable?"

"You busted his lip," he said as he walked to his door. "Either I sit in or we wait until tomorrow. Your call."

He weighed his options, or lack thereof, before he surrendered and the two men walked to the interview room. Danny was standing outside the one-way mirror, observing Dodd as they approached.

"Hey," Danny greeted them and Martin gave him a grateful smile for all his help earlier.

Jack explained what they were going to do and that Danny should be keep watch, just in case.

When they entered, Jack took position in the corner of the room while Martin sat down at the table.

Dodd looked exhausted and bruised as he stared at Martin. "I was wondering when we'd see each other again."

He casually pointed to his swollen lip and asked, "Does it hurt?"

"If I said yes would you be happy?" he asked and Martin shrugged. "Admit it, it felt good to hit me, didn't it?"

"Yes."

Dodd smiled before tilting his head to the side, giving him an appraising look. "You got some sleep." It took every ounce of his control to remain expressionless and not show any reaction. "Yes, you did. I can tell."

Martin leaned forward, ignoring Dodd's comment. "How about we talk?"

He looked over to where Jack stood, leaning against the wall, and said, "I won't say anything with him here."

"He's here for your protection," Martin quipped, holding up his hands and clenching and unclenching his fists. "I can't be trusted to be alone with you anymore."

Dodd raised an eyebrow. "So does that make you the villain now?"

He laughed bitterly. "No, that honor is still all yours."

Dodd grinned.

"So shall we pick up where we left off? I'll even let you ask the first question."

Dodd sighed tiredly and slowly shook his head. "No, I don't I feel like playing in front of an audience." His eyes drifted over to Jack as he explained, "I have been very clear on this point. I will only talk one-on-one." His eyes wandered back over to Martin and he smiled. "You and me. Alone."

Martin's jaw clenched and he pointed to the one-way mirror. "Look, you know as well as I do that even if he's not in the room he's on the other side of that window watching and listening. What difference does it make?"

Dodd got a perplexed look on his face. "He was watching? I honestly didn't know." He looked over at the mirror and said, "I feel so betrayed. I thought we were talking in private." Sounding agitated he continued, "Well now I definitely don't want to talk. I only came here because I wanted to talk to you alone but now I don't think I have anything left to say."

"I think you have a lot more to say," Martin replied, seething. "You still have to tell me where Chris is."

"No, I don't," Dodd replied, shaking his head. "I don't have to tell you anything."

Martin wanted to leap across the table and wrap his hands around Dodd's neck but he decided to try another tactic. "You already led us to Kevin and Ben, why stop now?"

Dodd lowered his head and looked up at Martin through heavy lidded eyes. "Because I know that he's the one you want."

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "You started all of this because of your mistake in taking Chris instead of me. I don't believe you are willing to just let it end here."

"You right," he evenly replied, completely void of feeling. "I started this because Chris was a mistake and you were the one I wanted." He raised his head slowly and tilted it to his right shoulder. "I came here because I wanted to meet you. But now that I have I am done. You may resemble the boy you once were but you aren't a little boy anymore so I have no real use for you."

Martin's blood felt fiery hot in his veins. "No, don't do this. Where is Chris?" Dodd stared back at him blankly. "You have to tell me."

Dodd smiled and icily replied, "Why? It doesn't matter. He was a mistake. No one wants anyone to know about their errors. I think I'd rather keep him hidden."

"This is over," Jack said, walking over and grabbing both of Martin's arms, pulling him towards the door.

"No," Martin said, anxiously shaking his head. He looked directly at Dodd and said, "Don't do this to me."

Dodd sat up straight and stared directly back at him. "It's already done."

Before he could reply Jack shoved him out of the interview room just as Danny was preparing to enter.

Martin brushed past Danny and walked to the adjacent wall and rested the palms of his hands on the wall, his forehead pressed on the cool wood panel. He could feel Chris slipping through his fingers and he felt like he let his friend down a second time.

He closed his eyes and said, "You knew he was going to do this didn't you?"

Jack cleared his throat and carefully replied, "I suspected as much but I was hoping I was wrong."

Martin nodded, take a few breaths. He had never felt this strong of rage before in his life. He was so filled with thoughts of vengeance he could almost taste blood on his tongue. He turned around and met Jack's gaze. "Give me some time alone with him; really alone. I will get him to tell me."

"No," Jack curtly replied as he and Danny stood side by side in front of the door to the interview room.

He saw Danny give Jack a look out of the corner of his eye but he remained mute nonetheless.

He shook his head in disbelief. "How can you tell me no, Jack? You do this stuff all the time. How many times have you asked one of us to 'take a walk' so you could have a conversation alone with a suspect? Or better yet, how many times did you not even care if we watched?"

Jack nodded guiltily, before he replied, "And I said you don't want to be like me. Martin, it takes a certain character to work the way I do and you don't have it."

"You don't think I'm tough enough?"

Jack shook his head. "I think you have too much of a conscience." He sighed and jerked his head down the hall. "Just go home. We'll leave him up here, let him sweat it out and go another night without sleep. I'm sure he'll be ready to sing like a canary by morning."

Martin knew it was useless to argue. Jack wasn't going to budge. He shook his head, frustrated, and walked down the hall.

He was too pent up to go home so he turned on his heels and headed to the bullpen. He spotted Vivian and Samantha sitting at the conference table.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked as he approached.

Viv looked up from a map she was reading and said, "We've been trying to see if there are any patterns between Dodd's victims." She waved her hands over maps and some crime scene photos. "Maybe he had some sort of methodology based on where he got the boys to where he buried them."

"Good." He looked at Sam and said, "Feel like getting some fresh air?"

She nodded and walked over to get her coat. He was too hot to bother getting his. A few minutes later the two of them made their way onto the balcony.

He walked up and propped his forearms up on the railing, Sam mimicking his posture. It was a little bit windy and the air smelled like rain was approaching.

With her eyes out on the city she whispered, "It went that well, huh?"

"I'm being sent home," he flatly replied, not willing or ready to discuss the ill-fated interview.

She nodded slowly and shifted to face him. "Do you want me to go home with you? I'm almost done here."

He shook his head. "No, I'd rather you stay and see what you can find."

"Are you sure?" The wind whipping strands of her hair around her face.

"The best thing you can do is help find Chris' location." He reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. "But when you are done you can use your key to let yourself in for a bed check."

She smiled. "Don't think I won't."

There was a tapping at the window and they looked over to see Vivian gesturing that Sam had a phone call.

She nodded that she would be right out and looked at Martin. "Sorry. I was expecting a phone call from Dodd's old supervisor."

"Go. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go," he replied. She reached out and gave his hand a tight squeeze, not letting go until she stepped back and their hands fell apart before she walked to the door, going back inside.

He turned back around and stared out onto the city. The air crackled with the threat of an oncoming storm. In the distance he could see storm clouds gathering over the ocean and he knew that it would be descending on the city in a few hours.

He closed his eyes as memories from his last summer with his friend washed over him. The day they jumped off Cayuga Cliff, arts and crafts, archery, Chris becoming Casey's boyfriend, Sarah Miller, the camp dance, skipping rocks, swimming in the lake. So much of who Martin was today was connected to that summer.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, the air thick and heavy with moisture and humidity.

He remembered feeling angry that he didn't find out about Chris' death until weeks after the memorial service. Not only didn't he get to say goodbye that day at camp but he also didn't get to say goodbye along with everyone else who loved Chris. He never was able to get a sense of real closure that he really wanted.

And if Dodd refused to tell him where Chris was now, he never will.

He lowered his head, his conversation with Dodd echoing in his ears.

"_I want to talk to you alone…Just you and me…"_

In that instant Martin knew what he had to do. He turned around and walked towards the door having decided that he would give Dodd exactly what he wanted: some one-on-one time, all alone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thank you all for reading. I apologize that it was so long but I couldn't find a good place to cut it off without messing up the next few chapters.

Thanks again!


	13. Chapter 13

XoXoXoX

_And if I only could,  
I'd make a deal with God,  
And I'd get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,  
Be running up that building._

_If I only could...oh _

"Running Up That Hill" – Kate Bush

XoXoXoX

Chapter 13

XoXoXoX

_Summer 1988_

XoXoXoX

_Martin adjusted the strap of his duffle bag as he slowly shuffled behind a woman wearing a pastel pink blouse and a jean skirt. The tag from her shirt was sticking out behind her neck and he resisted the urge to reach over and tuck it back in place. _

_Inching closer to the exit, he shifted foot-to-foot, anxious to get out of the plane. He was never very good at sitting still and flying always tested his mettle. _

"_Thank you for flying American Airlines," the flight attendant repeated to each passenger as they stepped off the plane. She met his eyes and grinned, her bright pink lipstick smudged on her front teeth and repeated, "Thank you for flying American Airlines."_

_He forced his lips to curve up into a polite smile as he passed. _

_He walked down the hall to the gate wondering why he agreed to come. He had just finished the Senator Shadow program and he had a month before school started again. He hoped they could be spent goofing around with his friends or maybe sitting on the sofa in the den, watching MTV and drinking soda pop. Anything to not think about how different this summer was from the one he and Chris had planned. _

_But guilt is a powerful force. _

_His Aunt Bonnie had been pestering him to visit ever since his new baby cousin, Allison, had been born. His mom tried to convince him to go with her when she went to help out for a few weeks but he argued that he couldn't afford to miss any school or baseball practice. He was able to keep postpone it again during the summer when he agreed to participate in the Senator Shadow program. But the program ended a week ago and he couldn't even use sports as an argument because the clinics were still two weeks away. So he finally relented and agreed to come and visit for a week. _

_When he finally reached the gate he spotted a little girl with a ponytail full of long brown hair dash straight for him. "Marty!"_

_She slammed into his thighs and he laughed, happy to see his younger cousin. "Hey Jamie."_

_She looked up at him and grinned, proudly displaying her missing two front teeth. She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to where his Uncle Roger and Aunt Bonnie were waiting for him with his new baby cousin. _

_After his Aunt Bonnie gave him a kiss on the cheek she shifted the baby in her arms and said, "Marty, I want you to meet your cousin Allison." _

_The baby girl stared back at him with wide, curious eyes, releasing a gurgle laugh. _

_He held out one of his fingers and Allison reached out, clutching it with small chubby hands. "Hi, Allison."_

"_Did you have a good flight?" Uncle Roger asked. _

_He shrugged. "It was alright."_

_Bonnie reached out and gently ran her hand over his arm. "I'm happy you came."_

_He nodded and smiled nervously. He hated feeling this way. All his life he looked forward to each and every visit to the Tolands but now they reminded him of Chris. It was easier during the year to ignore the fact that his friend was gone. He didn't normally talk to Chris when they were in school but as summer neared it became harder to pretend that he was just off somewhere in New York. _

_Bonnie had tried to convince him to go to camp, that it would help him grieve to be among friends who knew Chris, too but he refused. He couldn't bring himself to do it since this was the summer they would have been junior camp counselors. It wouldn't be right to be there without his friend. _

"_Alrighty, let's get moving," Uncle Roger said. He was always concerned about 'making good time.' He prided himself in finding the best routes to get from point A to point B in the least amount of time. He was worse when it came to finding a good parking space. He leaned in towards Martin and asked, "Did you check any luggage?"_

_Martin shook his head and adjusted his strap. "Nah, all my stuff is in this bag."_

"_That's my boy," Roger said, playfully mussing his hair. Martin smiled, knowing full well that his uncle hated having to wait for luggage to reach baggage claim. It upset his mythical time frame. He reached out to take Jamie's hand and said, "Come on, if we leave now we can beat the traffic on Queens Park."_

_After a bit of debate between Roger and Bonnie about which 'color' they parked in they found the station wagon. While Bonnie put Allison in her baby seat he handed Roger his bag to put in back and started to the back passenger door when Bonnie cleared her throat and said, "Actually Martin, we're going to ride in the truck."_

_She gestured to Roger's Toyota truck that was parked a few slips down. _

_He gave her a quizzical look. "Why did you come in two cars?" _

_She smiled and replied, "I thought we could take a special trip, just the two of us."_

"_Can I come?" Jamie asked. _

"_No, sweetie, but you get to do something much better," Bonnie replied, guiding Jamie into the backseat of the car. She started putting on her seatbelt and explained, "You, daddy and Allison are going to stop and pick up some ice cream so we can have hot fudge sundaes in honor of your cousin Martin's visit." She playfully rubbed noses with Jamie and said, "And you know that your daddy needs your help selecting the good ice cream and the best sprinkles." _

_Satisfied with that explanation, Jamie settled into her seat without further protest. _

_A short while later, he and Bonnie were on the Queens Parkway driving behind the station wagon. As they neared the usual exit, Roger honked the horn and pulled onto the off ramp, while they kept driving._

"_So where are we going?" _

_Bonnie paused, thinking, and finally replied, "Someplace I think you really need to see."_

_Not bothering to inquire further he reached over to adjust the radio dial. He stopped when he the latest U2 song, "Desire," and turned up the volume. He rolled down his window, resting his elbow on the door and listening to music. The wind feeling good after being cooped up in an airplane. _

"_How was it working for Senator Lewis?" Bonnie asked, reaching over and lowering the volume._

"_It was boring," he replied, his eyes scanning the car's interior. In the console between the two front seats he spotted some crumpled receipts, loose change totaling eighty-six cents, a mostly empty pack of gum and a hair scrunchy. _

"_So I'm guessing you're not going to apply to be a Page next summer," Bonnie replied, slowing down to let a car merge into their lane. _

"_Nope," he snorted, his eyes drifting to the backseat. The upholstery had lots of weird stains, discarded Happy Meal toys, one of Jamie's sneakers, and other odds and ends. _

_It grew quiet again, only the sound of Bruce Springsteen singing "Brilliant Disguise" coming from the car speakers when Bonnie hit the clicker and moved the car onto the off ramp. She slowed the car and hit the blinker to turn and his eyes went wide when he realized where they were headed. _

"_This is a cemetery," he declared as if she might have mistaken it for a mini-mall. _

"_I know," she replied, driving slowly through the narrow streets between the plots of land. _

"_Why are we here?" _

_She parked the car in front of a large oak tree and turned off the ignition. She un-clicked her seatbelt, turned to face him and softly answered, "We're here to see Chris."_

_He felt his throat constrict. "He isn't here." He looked over at the rows of headstones. "It's just some piece of ground with a cement block that has his name. I don't even know why his parents bothered."_

_Six months after Chris was declared an official victim of drowning, authorities claiming the water was too deep for a thorough search his parents held a small memorial ceremony and even bought a plot. They wanted him to come but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He declined saying that he had a big test that week and couldn't afford to miss any school. His mom tried talking him into attending, saying that he needed some closure, but his dad argued that he was old enough to decide for himself and the issue was dropped. Not a big surprise considering how the Fitzgerald men had a long tradition of keeping emotions bottled deep. _

_Bonnie nodded knowingly and with a sigh, she replied, "Sometimes it helps to have a specific place to remember someone you care about. A place to mark that person's place in the world."_

_He shook his head. "I don't want to be here."_

"_I think you need to be here most of all." _

"_Why? He's dead. Nothings going to change that," he replied, the feeling still raw. _

"_Because you need to say goodbye," she said as she reached over and brushed his short over his ears. "Martin you cared about your friend and he died. And ever since than you have been avoiding talking about him or even avoiding me because I was a link to him. You need to tell him goodbye and you really need to stop blaming yourself." _

"_I don't," he lied. He felt guilty every day. He wondered if things had been different somehow if he hadn't spent that time searching for his baseball cap and just gone with Chris to meet Casey and Sarah so they could all be in the same canoe. Maybe his aunt and uncle have decided to just let him stay at camp and made other arrangements. Maybe if he and Chris had spent a little more time together that day than maybe Chris would have spent the following day doing something different. _

"_Martin, I want you to listen to me," she said, gently taking his chin and forcing him to look at her. "What happened is nobody's fault. It was a terrible accident that you couldn't have seen coming or prevented in any way. Chris wouldn't want you blaming yourself."_

_She released her hand from his face and he replied, "I miss him."_

"_I know you do," she breathed. They sat together quietly for a beat when she reached for her door handle. "Come on."_

_He took a few breaths before he opened his own door and stepped out. He followed her to a small track in the middle where she stopped in front of a small plot with a medium sized headstone. He stared down at a simple marble headstone engraved: _

_Christopher Vincent Warner  
__Beloved Son  
__Sept. 15, 1973 – July 25, 1987_

_He stood there just staring down at it and thought he should be crying but no tears would come. He stood here not feeling sad but out of place, the moment feeling surreal and wrong. This is not the place his friend should be. He stared at the headstone, the intricate carving around the trim and thought that Chris would have hated it, the design too girly. If he were here they would laugh and Chris would argue that his mom must have picked it out. _

"_Do you know why we became such good friends?" he asked._

"_Why?" Bonnie asked, sounding genuinely curious. _

"_We both loved to complain about our parents." He turned to face her. "We would complain about how much it sucks to have someone else try and control our lives." She didn't reply, she just smiled and listened. "So we would spend every summer planning out what we wanted to do." He looked back at the headstone. "It changed every summer. When we were eight we wanted to be Jedi's like Luke Skywalker." He laughed at the memory of the two of them pretending old wrapping paper rolls were light sabers. "Than firemen, race car drivers, astronauts, all sorts of stuff. Last summer we were going to be in the NFL."_

"_It sounds like you guys sure knew how to dream big," she replied, wrapping her arm around him and giving him a hug. _

"_Yeah," he breathed. "The thing is," he felt tear stinging the corners of his eyes, "now that he is gone who is going to help me figure out what I should be now?"_

"_I guess it's time for you to figure that out for yourself." She kissed the top of his head and whispered, "But Martin, always know this: you are an amazing young man and you can do anything or be anyone you want to be. The whole world is ahead of you and I know that Chris would want you to keep making plans that make you happy."_


	14. Chapter 14

XoXoXoX

_Sometimes the hardest thing  
__And the right thing  
__Are the same_

'All at Once' – The Fray

XoXoXoX

Chapter 14

XoXoXoX

It took longer than he thought to make the arrangements.

Martin checked his watch: 1:45 am. He walked quietly down the hall to the interview room. He peered inside to see Dodd sitting at the table looking bored as Special Agent Harper sat on a chair in the corner working on a crossword puzzle. This was going to be easier than he thought. Harper was a rookie fresh out of the academy and whenever he saw Martin he made a special point to say hello to the Deputy Director's son. Harper was ambitious and way too eager to please.

This would be easier than taking candy from a baby.

"Alright, you can head home now Harper," he said to the other agent as he entered the room. He walked up to Dodd and helped him stand up. "Mr. Dodd since you aren't talking I'm going to go ahead and take you downstairs to a cell."

Harper stood up, still clutching his newspaper and pencil. "What do you mean? Agent Malone told me I was supposed to watch him all night."

"Change of plans," Martin replied, guiding Dodd to the door. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and he could see that Dodd's face was blank but curious as he observed the exchange between him and Harper.

"Are you sure because he also told me that you weren't supposed to be near Dodd," Harper replied, hesitantly.

Martin smiled. "You need to get your hearing checked, Harper. I'm sure Jack never said that. You know me. Do I look like someone who would hurt an old man?"

"But…"

"I'm sure my father would be very interested to know your opinion of me," he snidely added.

Um," he stammered.

"I'm not a threat to Mr. Dodd. You can ask him yourself," he said as he tugged on Dodd's arm. "Mr. Dodd, are you afraid of me?"

Dodd was quiet a long beat, his eyes moving between Martin and the green agent. Martin started to sweat, not sure what he would do if Dodd refused to play along when at last Dodd smiled at Harper and said, "No, I'm not afraid of Agent Fitzgerald at all. He's practically my only friend here."

Martin's grip tightened on Dodd's arm at being referred to as friend. "See, it's no problem." He led him out the door and over his shoulder said, "Good night, Harper."

Not wanting to risk being asked any further questions, Martin hurried Dodd down the hall to the elevator. Thankfully the doors opened almost immediately and he pushed Dodd inside ahead of him and pressed the button for the parking garage.

"Well, this is unexpected surprise," Dodd said, grinning ear to ear. "So where are we going? Something tells me you aren't sneaking me out of the federal bureau building to take me to a movie."

Martin ignored him, focusing his attention on the elevator lights. He needed to get out of the building quickly before running into anyone who might try and intervene. The bell dinged and the elevator doors slid open. He grabbed Dodd's arm and pushed him out, leading him through the empty parking garage to his car.

He pulled out his keychain, clicking off the car alarm and unlocking the doors. He spun Dodd around so he was facing him and leaned in to his face.

"Listen this is how this is going to play out: you are going to get in this car and I will give you my keys. You will remove your handcuffs and drive me to where you buried Chris." He pulled out his keys and yanked on Dodd's handcuffs. "You try anything stupid and I will shoot you."

He shoved the keys into his hands, jerked his chin towards the driver's seat and ordered, "Get in."

Before getting inside, Dodd met his eyes and asked, "How do you know I won't just crash us both into a wall?"

Martin stared back and coolly replied, "Because that isn't how you want this to end. You wouldn't have started all of this if you didn't want us to be find Chris together, just the two of us."

"Very good grasshopper," Dodd replied with a smile before getting in the car.

Martin climbed into the backseat, directly behind Dodd, and removed his weapon from his holster. He rested his gun on his thigh and prayed that his plan was going to work.

When they pulled onto the city street they were greeted by a drizzling rain and Dodd fumbled several knobs before Martin finally told him which one was for the windshield wipers. Dodd thanked him for his help and drove the car steadily towards the interstate onramp.

He slumped into the back seat, settling in for a long ride.

Glancing at him in the rearview mirror and Dodd asked, "I don't suppose we can stop someplace for some coffee? I haven't slept much the last twenty-four hours and we have a bit of a drive ahead of us."

"No," Martin snapped back. "If you get drowsy I'd be happy to slap the back of your head to wake you up."

He shook his head and laughed. "There's the feisty Marty I remember." He adjusted his hands on the steering wheel and sighed. "This does feel familiar though, driving a car in the middle of the night with one of my boys in the back. Factor in the rain, why it makes me feel downright nostalgic."

"Just drive," Martin ordered, wishing his voice had a harder edge.

"Well, I have always found talking to be a great way to pass the time on the road trip." He pulled the car onto the highway and soon they were traveling at a steady pace. "Do you feel like talking Marty?"

"Not especially."

"Maybe I should do the talking than," he replied softly as a large semi-truck drove by, making a loud whooshing sound as it passed. "Maybe I can tell you the story about how I confused you and Chris. Would you like to hear that story?"

Martin's eyes met Dodd's in the rearview mirror, his teeth gnawing the inner edge of his lower lip as he nodded.

"I thought it was just going to be an ordinary day," Dodd began. "And then I saw you – or at least I thought it was you…"

XoX

_Dodd was hiking through the forest, checking for any broken tree limbs that might be blocking the path. There had been scattered thunderstorms all morning and there was a break in the storm so he decided to do some checking around. He bent over and moved a few branches over when he saw a boy on a canoe out on the lake. He crept behind a tree and watched. Although he wasn't able to see his face he couldn't help but notice that his profile looked remarkably like Martin Fitzgerald's. He stayed hidden, a grin on his face on how serendipitous this encounter was. Just today he had come up with an excuse to visit the camp again just to find out more information about Martin and now here he was just a few yards away. _

_Chris paddled the canoe to the shore, jumping out and pulling it onto land. Satisfied that it was docked, he turned and headed up the side of the hill towards Cayuga Cliff. Sensing an opportunity too perfect to pass up Dodd rushed down to the lake, careful to remain unseen, and pushed the canoe back out onto the water. He gave it such a hard push that it immediately was pulled along by the tide and floated out to open water. _

_Satisfied that there was no way for his young victim to retrieve the canoe or attempt to swim out to it, he spun around to prepare his Jeep for what lay ahead. He knew that his prized boy would mostly likely hike up to the trail and follow it back to camp and he would be ready. He filled the syringe with the animal tranquilizer and carefully placed it in the crevice of his door where it could be easily accessed. _

_A few minutes had passed and he worried that maybe the canoe wasn't as irretrievable as he thought when he saw him emerge from the forest. Only now he was wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap. He face was still obscured by the brim of the cap but there was no mistaking that he was upset at the loss of the canoe by the dower way he walked. He kicked the dirt, looking frustrated. _

_He put on his game face and opened the door to his Jeep. He started walking up the trail and feigned surprise at the sight of the boy. "Don't I know you? Your name's Martin, right?" _

"_I'm not Martin," Chris replied, taking off the baseball cap. "I'm Chris." _

_Dodd almost tripped as he walked, he was so taken aback. He quickly recovered and concealed his disappointment by planting a big friendly smile on his face. "I'm sorry. You look like a kid I know." _

"_Yeah we get that a lot," Chris replied with a grin. "We like to joke he's my brother from another mother."_

"_That's funny," Dodd replied humorlessly. _

_Chris gave him an appraising look, running his eyes over Dodd's ranger outfit. "Are you the new forest guy, the one who took the group tracking?"_

"_That's me," Dodd replied, stepping up and giving Chris a long look. "I don't remember you though."_

"_That's because I wasn't there." _

"_Maybe next time." He looked around to confirm that no one was nearby before his gaze landed on Chris and he asked, "So, you lost or just taking a really long hike?"_

"_I came out on a canoe to get this for Martin," he held up the baseball cap before placing it back on his head. "But I guess I didn't pull the canoe far enough up on shore and it drifted off." _

"_I can give you a ride back," Dodd offered, trying to make it sound casual and not premeditated. It was a skill he picked up long ago, after he scared off one boy by appearing too eager and too friendly. _

_Chris hesitated, glancing around. "Nah, I think I'll just walk. I need time to come up with a good explanation anyway."_

"_Explanation?"_

"_Yeah," he replied with a nervous nod. "We're not supposed to take the canoes out without a partner."_

"_So why did you?"_

"_Martin has been looking everywhere for his baseball cap and I remembered that he had when we dived off the cliff. So I thought I would see if it was there." He smiled and added, "Turns out to be a lucky guess." _

"_Why didn't he come with you?"_

"_He had to go home yesterday," Chris replied, disappointed. "Something about his grandma getting sick."_

"_Is he going to be back?"_

"_No, I don't think so." _

_Dodd felt a wave of crushing disappointment coarse through him. He waited too long to make his move and Martin slipped through his fingers. He looked back at Chris who looked a great deal like Martin except his eyes were a disappointing shade of brown. "You could have brought someone else."_

"_Well, I kinda wanted to be alone," he softly replied. "I sort of got in a fight with my girlfriend."_

"_Nothing like a little alone time to clear your head," Dodd said as he took a few steps back to head to his Jeep. "Enjoy your walk." _

_Just then it started raining again and he looked back over at Chris who smiled and said, "On second thought, I would love a ride back to camp."_

XoX

"It was like a sign," Dodd finished. "That rainfall. Chris climbed right into my Jeep. He sat down in the passenger seat, grateful he wouldn't have to walk back to camp and didn't even notice the syringe until it was plunging into his neck. He struggled of course but thankfully the drug works quickly and he was knocked out in less than thirty seconds."

Martin bit the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he brought his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. He refused to cry, he would not break down in front of Dodd. With his other hand he squeezed the handle of his gun, anger surging through him. It took every ounce of control he possessed to not use it on Dodd.

"Oh look, it stopped raining," Dodd observed as he clicked off the windshield wipers. He pressed the button for the window and lowered it, the cold wind hitting Martin in the face. Dodd took a deep inhalation and said, "I just love the way it smells after a rain."

Martin took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his nerves and with a quaky voice he said, "Roll it back up."

"Why? I like…"

"I said roll it back up!" he shouted, angrily.

Dodd sighed, put out, but did as he was told and pressed the button. The window moved back up. He grew surprisingly quiet as he drove and Martin found himself grateful for the reprieve. He wiped the sweat off his upper lip with the back of his hand and he suddenly wished he had let Dodd keep the window rolled down. He tried to keep his emotions in check by reminding himself he had a plan. It was a good plan and if he pulled it off Dodd would get what he has coming to him.

He took a deep breath and glanced outside. He could tell by the mile markers and road signs that they were headed to Green Mountain in Vermont.

"Why didn't you just bury him near Cayuga Lake?"

The car slowed and they turned onto a dirt road. "As they say, you never shit where you eat. I couldn't risk any possibility that he would be linked back to me."

The drove for a little while longer when Dodd turned the car onto a bumpy dirt road, the car bouncing up and down as it rolled over the rocky terrain. Dodd pulled the car over to the side and parked.

"He's that way," he said, jerking his head towards the forest.

Martin held up his gun and gestured for Dodd to get out. The both exited the car and he held out his hand. "Keys."

Dodd grinned and held them over Martin's hands but not releasing them. "You afraid I'm going to drive off and leave you here."

He didn't waver or flinch. He just waited with his hand outstretched until Dodd finally dropped them into his palm. He pressed the button for the trunk and it popped open. With his gun trained on Dodd he carefully moved behind the car and removed the small shovel and flashlight he brought along. He tucked the shovel under his arm so he could point both the flashlight and his gun where it needed to be aimed.

"Start walking," he ordered, the air was so crisp that his breath was visible.

Dodd just smiled and began walking as if they were going on a picnic.

He led Martin to a small open area and waved his hands around. "Here we are. At long last."

Martin tossed the shovel on the ground at Dodd's feet and ordered, "Start digging."

"The last two times you had a crew do the work."

"You wanted us to do this alone."

Dodd swung the shovel back and forth and in a sing-song voice he asked, "And what if I decide to use this shovel on you?"

With his gun pointed right between Dodd's eyes he replied, "Go ahead. I dare you."

Dodd just laughed before he replied, "Alright, if you insist." He bent over and broke ground, digging slowly. "Well at least the rain made the dirt nice and soft."

Martin licked his lips, his entire body trembling with anticipation of what lay ahead.

"I have to say," Dodd said, using his foot to push the shove into the ground. "That considering Chris was a mistake he did leave the most lasting impression…"

XoX

_Dodd sat on a metal fold out chair and just stared at Chris, his expression somewhere between bored and resolved. He held up his bowie knife, the blade shimmering against the small light bulb dangling from the ceiling of the basement. _

_Chris' arms were tied behind his back, dried tears and blood on his face. He was staring off entranced but not really looking at anything. He bore the appearance of someone who had given up all hope and this pleased Dodd immensely. _

"_How do you feel?" Dodd asked. While his words were of concern, when he said them they sounded twisted and harsh; a morbid curiosity, without any emotion but a cold, clinical detachment. _

_Chris' reply was so soft that he couldn't hear him. When he asked again, the reply was just as quiet. Annoyed Dodd got off his chair and crouched down in front of Chris, his face inches away and asked one more time, "What did you say?"_

_He laughed a desperate, sad, lost laugh as he lifted his head defiantly and replied, "Like knocking on heaven's door." _

_And then Chris suddenly slammed his forehead onto Dodd's mouth. Dodd staggered a few steps backward, his hand on his jaw and wondered if any bones had actually been cracked. He felt disoriented so hunched over, his hands propped on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath. He moved his tongue around his mouth and that's when he felt his two front teeth were loose, threatening to fall out. _

"_You shit," he growled through a mouthful of blood. _

"_Fuck you," Chris spat back when Dodd lunged towards him with his knife. _

XoX

"Usually near the end the boys just start praying but Chris, he had fight right up until the end."

Martin tried to swallow but there was a big lump lodged in his throat. It hurt to hear about Chris' last moments and how he was killed but he found himself feeling a sense of pleasure that at least at the very end he still tried to fight Dodd. But more than that, even in his most dark hour, Chris was still himself, his last words reflecting the core of who he was.

He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his coat thinking that it was almost like Chris was sending a message to him over time. He knew the song, "Knocking on Heaven's Door" so well and leave it to Chris to pick a classic.

"Chris might have been one of my best boys and I might have been happy with him if he didn't have a flaw that I could not overlook. He didn't have the blue eyes that I adore." Dodd stopped shoveling and looked up at Martin. "Eyes just like yours."

He pointed his weapon at Dodd and ordered, "Keep digging!"

"I'm done." Martin stepped forward and saw a body wrapped in plastic. Dodd gestured to the body and said, "Now I know I don't usually wrap them up but one doesn't like to leave their mistakes exposed."

Martin aimed his gun at Dodd. "Stop saying telling me he was a mistake! He was my best friend and you murdered him!"

"He was a mistake! It was you I wanted but you weren't there so I had to settle for him with his plain brown eyes."

"Shut up!"

"You were the one I wanted but you weren't there!" Dodd continued, emboldened, with his icy and cruel voice. "All the time I spent with Chris I kept comparing him to you. I wondered what your screams would have sounded like if I pressed a cigarette into your thigh. Chris had a high-pitched scream. Would you have screamed out, Martin?"

"Stop talking," he growled.

"I killed your friend Martin. I burned his flesh with my cigarettes and he cried, begging me to stop but I didn't stop. I just did it again and again until I was done with him."

"I said shut up!" Martin shook his head, trying not to listen but the words still reached his ears.

"And after I slit his throat I drove him out here and buried him in this unmarked grave," Dodd continued his tirade. "Out of all my boys he is the only one I never think about because when I remember my time with him I think of you. I think how much I wished it had been you on the canoe that day and how I regret that I never got to experience you for myself."

His arm flew up and he aimed his gun, his trigger finger aching to press it back. His heart and mind were heavy with grief and he had never thought he would want a man more dead in his life. He hated this man. His entire body was shaking violently, every cell of his being begging insistently that he kill Dodd.

"Go ahead, kill me. You know you want to!" Dodd shouted, each word deliberately provoking Martin. "Do it, Martin. Get vengeance! I killed your friend and I killed all those other boys and I don't regret it. I wish I could do it again!" He licked his swollen lip and continued, "And when I killed your friend I wished it was you! It should have been you!"

He adjusted his grip on the gun, righted it in his hand and fired.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The gun was still warm in his hand when he lowered it. He stared back at Dodd's cold, dead eyes and asked, "Was that what you wanted?"

"What's going on?" Dodd replied, frantically searching his body for any sort of wound. "You shot me, I know you did."

Martin held up his gun and explained, "It's loaded with blanks." Dodd stared back at him, incredulous, as he took a breath and shouted, "You can come out now!"

Slowly, Jack, Sam, Danny and Viv emerged from the shadows of the forest. He looked over and met Sam's eyes, her pale brown eyes filled with sympathy.

He watched as Danny and Jack moved towards Dodd. He wasn't sure Jack was going to go along with his plan but once he told him that he would only carry blanks it made it easier to persuade him that he wasn't going to risk all their jobs by doing something so stupid. He was worried that Dodd would spot the two cars following him but thankfully the old man was too preoccupied with telling his story to notice.

Dodd's eyes were desperate as he looked at them before looking back at Martin. "What are you doing?!"

"You're under arrest for the murders of Kevin Hardon, Ben Forrester," Martin replied, dropping his gun to his side. "And Chris Warner."

"You were supposed to kill me!" Dodd shouted. "That's why you brought me out here."

"I brought you out here to get my friend."

"No! This isn't the way it's supposed to end! You were supposed to kill me! It's our destiny! That's why you lived that day! So you could come back and make it full circle." Dodd struggled, writhing in Danny's grasp. He bore his eyes into Martin and frantically explained, "Don't you see? I was diagnosed at the same time you rescued that boy! It was a sign that you lived so you could avenge those boys by killing me!"

Danny shoved Dodd forward and cuffed his hands behind his back. "Martin, this isn't the way it was supposed to happen. You were supposed to shoot me!"

"I don't want you getting off so easily," Martin evenly replied, giving Dodd a hard look. "I'd rather you spend the last pathetic six months of your life in a federal prison protecting your ass from your cell mates. Because you may not believe in heaven but I think you'll believe in hell soon enough."

Danny and Jack dragged a frantic Dodd back to the car as he continued shouting, "This isn't how this is supposed to end!"

He locked eyes with Dodd and said, "I'm thrilled to disappoint you."

He watched as Danny and Jack dragged a ranting and raving Dodd through the woods, his shouts growing more desperate as he was moved further away. Through the trees Martin could see the flashing red and blue lights of arriving police cars and the forensic van.

He turned around to see Vivian and Sam starting sadly down at Chris' sheet encased body. Sam gave him a soft sad look as Viv slowly stepped away, following the path where Danny and Jack took Dodd.

He moved to sit down next to the grave where his best friend's body lay when he felt Sam come up behind him. She rested her hand where his neck and shoulder met, giving him a comforting squeeze.

His head was still spinning and he needed something to hold on to so he reached up and placed his hand on top of hers, gripping it tightly and feeling thankful that he had her to hold onto as his anchor.

**xxxxxxxxxx  
A/N: Sorry it was sooo long but The Nagging Cube insisted. And man, does she ever nag. ;-) **


	15. Chapter 15

XoXoXoX

_Cold, cold water surrounds me now  
__And all I've got is your hand  
__Lord, can you hear me now?  
__Lord, can you hear me now?  
__Lord, can you hear me now?  
__Or am I lost?_

'Cold Water' – Damien Rice

XoXoXoX

Chapter 15

XoXoXoX

_The year following the drowning Chris' ghost followed Martin everywhere. _

_He thought it was strange that when someone died the shock is overwhelming at first but than it waxes and wanes afterwards. You find yourself forgetting that they are gone. You don't forget them, not ever, but during regular day-to-day activities your mind lapses and you forget that they are dead and you are never going to see them again. Martin's dad told him it was the heart's defense mechanism, it allowed people to continue functioning because if they gave their grief enough power it would overwhelm them. _

_Martin didn't understand why the mind would be so cruel. As nice as it was to forget for a bit, it made it that much harder when you remembered it all over. _

_He would find himself doing something ordinary like watching something funny on TV and think to himself that he would have to share it with Chris so he would reach for the phone only to be reminded that his friend would never pick up on the other end of the line, he was gone. Or he would be fixing the chain on his bike and memories of Chris and him riding to the corner market to buy cherry flavored Slushees and Cheetos would flood over him. He could picture Chris with a red rimmed mouth and cheddar colored fingertips, laughing as they talked. And then he would get depressed realizing that he would never do that with Chris again. _

_After Chris died Martin walked around under a dark cloud. He felt guilty feeling any moments of happiness or joy because Chris would never experience them __again. But after going with Bonnie to see his grave, he felt the burden lifted and he even managed to enjoy the rest of his visit. _

_It was his last night visiting and they decided to spend it playing Trivial Pursuit. They paired into teams, Roger and Jamie versus Martin and Bonnie. It was agreed that while Jamie was a handicap Roger was knowledgeable enough that it would balance out._

"_In which year did the Red Sox sell Babe Ruth to the Yankees, thus beginning the famous 'Curse of the Bambino'?" Roger asked Bonnie, his hand carefully concealing the answer on the reverse side. _

_She__ went bug eyed and replied, "Now, how in the heck would I know that?"_

_He was taken off guard that such a simple sports trivia question could make him feel so sad. Sports trivia was one of the areas where he excelled. Of course, it was in part because he and Chris were both sports nuts who read, watched, or listened to anything sports related. Whenever they discovered an unusual bit of sports history they would share it with each other. Chris once called him from a vacation in Boston to tell him that he found out that the first player to hit a home run at Fenway Park was Hugh Bradley. _

_He suddenly wished he could have called up Chris and asked for his help answering the question. _

"_Martin?" Bonnie asked, yanking him out of his reverie. _

"_Yeah?"_

_She leaned in and asked, "Do you have any guesses?"_

"_Um," he replied, suddenly feeling very emotional about such a simple sports question. He took a chance and replied, "1930?" _

_She smiled and patted him on the back. "It's worth a shot." She looked at Roger and said, "My partner and I would like to answer '1930.'" _

"_EH! Wrong!" Roger replied, turning the card around. "The correct answer is 1920.'" _

_She grabbed the card and read it, as if Roger must be mistaken. "That's a ridiculous question. Who could possibly know the answer to that?"_

"_Don't be a sore loser," he teased, handing the dice to Jamie. "Let it roll." _

_Jamie grinned, cupped her hands together and shook the dice. And shook the dice and shook the dice until they finally couldn't take it anymore and all shouted for her to roll them already. She dropped them on the board and leaned over to carefully count the dots. _

_Martin watched as she bit her bottom lip concentrating on the task before turning to his aunt and softly asked, "Um, you went to the memorial right?" _

_He knew the answer but he still asked the question. _

_Bonnie shared a look with Roger before turning to face him, a gentle look in her eyes as she nodded. "Yes, we did." _

_Jamie finished counting and then picked up the game piece and moving it eight squares down, counting them out again._

"_Were there a lot of people there?" _

"_The church was packed to capacity," she replied with a gentle smile. _

"_I had to stand," Roger added, watching as Jamie took her time moving the piece over each square. _

_Bonnie's eyes were warm as she said, "There were kids from his school, neighbors, family friends, and even Ricky Narducci was there."_

"_There were people from camp?" He didn't know why he was surprised. Chris drowned at camp so it was logical that some of them would want to go pay their respects. _

"_Yes," she replied, tenderly, sensing his mood. "There was Ricky, Matt…and I remember there was this girl who was very dramatic. She was bawling her eyes out and her poor friend had to finally take her outside." _

_He didn't have to ask her name to know that must have been Casey. He wondered if the friend was Sarah. He thought about her a lot and if he knew she was going to be back at camp this summer he might have reconsidered going but she made it very clear that she was only at Cayuga for the one summer. _

_He lowered his eyes, while he was touched that they all went he also suddenly regretted not having gone himself. The other kids were just Chris' casual camp friends. He was his best friend and he was too big a coward to go to his memorial to say goodbye._

_Bonnie reached over and gently ran her hand over his back. "It was such a scene I don't think you wouldn't have been able to properly say goodbye like you did today. It was better for you to do it when you were ready." _

_He nodded, grateful for her reassurance. _

"_Is there anything else you want to ask?" _

_He met her eyes, she knew him too well. _

"_What about his parents? I mean, I know they were upset but," he paused, trying to find the words. "Were they together?" _

"_What do you mean?" _

"_Well, Chris thought they might be getting a divorce." Martin picked up his iced tea. It was a warm summer night so the glass was sweating and he wiped off the moisture. "I was wondering if they were…okay."_

_Bonnie reached over and grabbed a handful of Chex mix. She got a thoughtful expression on her face and replied, "Well, I can't be certain. I didn't know to ask but I can say that they seemed to really be relying on each other. They held hands almost the entire time and they seemed to support and comfort one another." _

_He stared at her for a long moment and gave her a grateful smile when Jamie leapt up and announced that she was done. He shook off his morose mood and planted a grin on his face and looked at the board to read that the next question was history. _

"_You do it, Marty," Bonnie said as he handed him the box of trivia cards. _

_He pulled one out and read the question. "What future Soviet leader once trained to be a priest?" _

_Jamie, happy that her participation was done for now, returned her focus to her cookies while Roger contemplated his answer. Martin showed the card to Bonnie so she would know the answer as well. _

"_Gorbachov?" Roger said at last. _

_Bonnie and Martin shared a look before grinning and replying, "EH! Wrong!" Martin laughed and stuck the card in the back of the box. "The correct answer is Joseph Stalin." _

_He reached over and grabbed a handful of the Chex mix, stuffing a handful into his mouth. _

_Roger pulled out another card, his eyes darting between them conspiratorially before asking, "What two Yankees were nearly traded to Milwaukee for pitcher Warren Spahn and slugger Hank Aaron in 1960?" _

_Martin grinned and quickly answered, "Whity Ford and Mickey Mantle." _

XoX

Sam stayed with Martin until Chris' body was ready for transport while the rest of the team headed back to the city. He couldn't bring himself to leave his friend all alone in woods a moment longer. He insisted on waiting until the scene was processed and Chris' body was loaded in the back of the ambulance and taken back to the city.

He watched as two of the forensic agents lifted the plastic wrapped body out of the grave and laid it down near his feet.

"You don't want to remember him this way," Sam whispered, trying to make him turn around.

"I have to know," he replied softly, giving her a determined look before stepping forward as the forensic agent pulled apart the plastic fabric.

It was painful to see Chris' remains but he couldn't bring himself to look away either. He needed to see, he needed to know with absolute certainty that it was indeed Chris' body. He knelt down and studied the body before him but the remains looked nothing like his friend. All that was uncovered was a skeleton, any evidence of what the boy looked like long gone. The clothes were now tattered rags and he couldn't recognize them as Chris' if he tried.

"Come on," Sam gently said, pulling him up. "Let them do their job."

He reluctantly stood up and stepped back, staring down at the body before him as Sam led him back towards the trees so they could observe from a distance. He leaned back against a tree and watched as they cataloged Chris' body parts as if he were a puzzle that had to put together; photographing every piece. Martin felt like he had too many emotions fueling his body and his skin was too tight to contain them. He wanted to run away from the scene before him but he also felt glued to the spot.

The bottom line was he felt too much.

Wordlessly, Sam reached over and snaked her hand around his bicep and leaned against him. She didn't say anything but just the fact that she was willing to stand beside him while he watched his childhood best friend's body being prepared for transport was enough.

A few hours later, as dawn rose over the city, they arrived back at the office. Sam excused herself to go to the ladies room so he decided to seek out Jack and ask about Dodd. He wasn't in his office so he decided to check the interview rooms but this time instead of Jack observing through the two-way mirror he found Danny.

"I was wondering when you would get back," Danny greeted him as he approached.

"Just got here," Martin replied as he looked at Dodd sitting at the table, writing his confession on the notepad with Jack sitting opposite of him and Harper standing the corner looking confused. He couldn't help but note that Dodd had a crestfallen expression on his face.

"Your plan worked," Danny said, folding his arms over his chest and staring inside. "The whole drive back he was practically catatonic. It's like he couldn't believe that his master plan failed."

"Good," Martin said, his voice low and dark. "Has he said anything?"

"He told Jack where we could find his 'souvenirs,'" he replied, a look of disgust on his face. "He kept them in a storage locker in Brooklyn. Kyle's on his way back with them now."

Martin swallowed. "Did he say what sort of stuff he found?"

He shook his head. "Why?"

When the forensic team went through Chris' remains there was no sign of Martin's ill-fated baseball cap. He didn't know why but he had to see it, he needed some tangible evidence to be sure that it was Chris, that there was truth to Dodd's story because when all was said and done he found himself still holding onto hope that Dodd was lying.

"Just wondering," Martin replied. Not ready to talk about it. He nodded to Harper and asked, "Did you guys tell him it was all a ruse?"

Danny snickered mischievously. "Nah, I want to see that weasel squirm a little while longer. Even if Jack did authorize you taking Dodd he didn't know that and he shouldn't have given him to you so easily. He needs to be taught a lesson." He looked at him and finished, "The good news is I am pretty sure he won't be kissing up to you anymore."

He nodded in agreement. "An added bonus."

They noticed some movement and watched as Jack stood up and exited the interview room. They both turned so they would face Jack as he rounded the corner to where they stood.

"I was hoping that you went straight home," Jack said as he approached, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Martin met Jack's eyes and replied, "I just wanted to stop by and see if there were any developments."

"I'll just go…somewhere…" Danny trailed off before heading down the hallway.

As soon as Danny was out of range, Jack gave him a smirk and said, "I have to admit that gunfire was a surprise."

"I'd apologize but it felt really good," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure it did," he said with a knowing nod before facing the window to look at Dodd. They were both quiet for a beat, each lost in their own thoughts as they stared at the forlorn man. Jack broke the silence first. "You know what I first thought when you came to me with your idea?"

"What?"

"I thought 'why in the hell is he asking me instead of just doing it?'"

Martin eyed him out of the corner of his eye wondering where this was headed. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, because we both know that's what I would have done." Jack turned to look at him, his eyes a mixture of respect and self-awareness. "Personally I have always found it to be easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."

This time Martin allowed himself to smile. "I considered it, I did, but my boss would have ripped me a new one."

They shared a faint, sad chuckle.

"There's something you need to know," Jack carefully began. "I got a heads up from a friend at _The Post_. He said that the newswire picked up the story from Pennsylvania PD. They know about your connection to Dodd and it's going to be a headline by the end of the day."

He felt his stomach drop. "I guess it is too juicy a press piece to pass up."

"I already contacted PR and they are going to do their best to run interference for you but I'd probably screen your phone calls for awhile."

His jaw clenched and he nodded. "Thanks for the warning."

They grew quiet again when Jack jerked his chin towards Dodd. "Do you want to talk to him before I send him to lock-up? Any questions you still need answered? Because this is the time to ask him, he's broken."

"No," he replied softly, shaking his head and glancing at Dodd one last time. "He has nothing I want to hear."

The two men shared a look before Martin excused himself and turned around to head down the hall. He arrived at the bullpen where Viv and Sam were sitting at their respective desks.

Sam yawned, holding the back of her hand up to her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled tiredly, "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yeah," he replied, walking over to his own desk and plopping down on his chair.

"I'm going to head home myself," Viv announced as she stood up and turned off her monitor. "But before I do," she walked up to Martin and held out a piece of paper, "I tracked down Chris' parents. Jack asked me to call them before the news stations get a chance but I thought," she shrugged, "I don't know, maybe you might want to?"

He stared at the piece of paper in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said as she started to pull it back.

"No, no," he replied, reaching out and taking the slip of paper. He studied the phone number and address scribbled down. "It should be me."

Viv gave him her patented 'buck up' smile and started to leave. As she passed she gently squeezed his arm and said, "Get some sleep, Martin."

He followed her with his eyes before checking his wristwatch: 7:30 am. Chris' parents should be up by now. He wished he could put it off but time was of the essence if he wanted them to hear it from him and not read about it in the paper. He has faced everything up until now head on, no point putting this final matter now.

"I can go with you," Sam offered as she came to stand in front of him.

With a small smile he shook his head. "Thanks but this is definitely something I need to do alone."

She nodded. "Well, I can at least walk you to your car."

"No, that's alright," he replied standing up. "You head home. I'm going to go freshen up and then head straight there. Hopefully I can stay ahead of the press."

"I'll wait."

"No, you're exhausted." He leaned in and softly said, "Go home and keep the bed warm."

"You got it," she replied, giving him a soft look. He thought she might actually kiss him in the office when another agent walked back breaking the moment. She shook her head and smiled at him before walking to the elevator.

He turned around and opened his drawer to get his toiletry bag when Kyle came into the bullpen carrying a large box.

"Is that what I think it is?" Martin asked as he approached.

Kyle studied him warily before sighing resignedly and answering, "If you mean Dodd's souvenirs than yeah, it is." He dropped the box onto the table and turned to face him. "You know, it was pretty gutsy what you did."

Martin didn't know how to respond so he just nodded slowly.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from Malone's team," Kyle gruffly said before scanning the bullpen. "Do you know where he is by the way? He wanted me to fetch him when I got back."

"Interview room."

Kyle nodded and started down the hall. Martin looked back to make sure that no one was watching before slowly shuffling towards the table. He peered inside the cardboard box and saw plastic bags filled with various items: t-shirts, action figures, bicycle bells, baseball cards, a pocket knife and one New York Yankees baseball cap.

With shaky fingers Martin reached inside and pulled out the bag. He stared at the cap in his hand and held his breath as he turned it over. He looked inside the brim to see "Martin F." written inside with his own handwriting. He lowered his eyes and clutched the bag tightly as his heart broke into a million pieces.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
A/N: OMG, you guys are totally embarrassing me with your really, really kind reviews. Seriously, I overwhelmed that you guys are enjoying this fic so much. That said, I'm also freaking out on finishing it because I'm so worried it's just downhill from here. LOL. Thank you all again.


	16. Chapter 16

XoXoXoX

_All you really need is someone to be here  
Someone who never lets you disappear  
And I will be that witness to your life_

'Witness to Your Life' – Lori McKenna

XoXoXoX

Chapter 16

XoXoXoX

_Summer 1981_

XoXoXoX

_It's funny how easy it is to make a friend when you are a kid. _

_Eight-year old Martin sat at the table in his Aunt Bonnie's kitchen eating pancakes and watching as his aunt tried to get Jamie to eat her oatmeal. He was told that having a new baby cousin was going to be fun but so far all she seemed to do was speak in gurgles and yips, eat, poop, spit up and drool. She was cute but not very good at doing more than sitting up. _

"_So I was thinking that we could go to the nursery and pick up some flats of azaleas," Bonnie said as she spooned up another serving of oatmeal and tried to get more of the food into Jamie's mouth than on her bib. "Won't that be fun?" _

"_Yeah, I guess," he replied with a shrug. _

"_You don't want to do that?" she asked, wiping the slobbery oatmeal off of Jamie's chin. "We could do something else." She scooped up another spoonful and added, "Or you know what? A new family moved in next door and they have a son who is around your age. Maybe you can go over and ask him to play." _

_He titled his head side to side, considering before giving a non-committal shrug. _

"_Well, I'm out of ideas." She dropped the napkin on the table and started to get the baby out of the high chair. "What do you want to do?" _

_He took a drink of his milk and shrugged again. _

_She smiled and shook her head. "Well, tell you what. I'm going to go upstairs and give Jamie a bath. When we are done we are going to come back downstairs and I want you to have at least one idea of something fun to do, okay?"_

"_Okay," he replied, finishing his milk. _

_Bonnie carried the baby upstairs and he walked over to the sink, depositing his glass and plate. He picked up his plastic suitcase with the Hot Wheel logo on the side and went outside to wait for her. He snapped it open and inside he found rows of individual compartments for each of his small toy cars. _

_He carefully pulled out each of his cars, lining them up along the top step of the porch. He picked up his red Corvette and opened its tiny doors to look inside the plastic interior. _

"_You don't live there."_

_Martin looked over to see a boy about his age standing on the sidewalk eyeing him suspiciously. He was wearing a 'Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back' t-shirt, jean shorts, and Converse sneakers._

"_I know. This is my aunt and uncle's house," Martin replied, standing up and walking over to the strange boy. He fiddled with the toy car in his hand and asked, "Who are you?"_

"_I'm Chris. I live next door." He jerked his chin towards the red brick house. Martin looked over to the house and its perfectly manicured lawn. "So how long are you here for?" _

"_Just the summer," he replied as he gave Chris an evaluating look. He held up his car and asked, "Do you like to play cars?" _

"_Yeah, my mom bought me a bunch of the new 'The Hot Ones'," Chris eagerly replied. "They're new. They have thin tires and they go super fast when you launch them off a ramp." _

"_Really? I'm supposed to get some for my birthday." _

"_They're so cool. You can ramp them like three feet high," Chris replied as he started dashing back to his house. "Hang on, I'll go get my stuff and show you!"_

_Martin watched as Chris disappeared inside his house when his Aunt Bonnie opened the front door and came out on the porch. She held Jamie on her hip and asked, "So did you think of something fun to do today?"_

_He turned and walked towards her. "Um, would it be okay if we just stay home? I met the kid next door and we're going to play cars." _

_Bonnie smiled and looked over at the house next door just as Chris came barreling out holding a large box. He ran over the lawn and said, "Got 'em." He stopped short when he saw Bonnie and said, "Hi Mrs. Toland."_

"_Hi Chris," she replied with a grin. "Martin tells me that you guys are going to play together today."_

"_Yeah." Chris set the box down on the porch and opened it up, pulling the pieces out for a ramp. _

_Martin picked some up and started to help assemble. He glanced up at Bonnie who was watching them bemused. _

"_Okay, I'm just going to go out back and work in the greenhouse." She opened the front door and said, "You boys have fun now."_

_He watched as she turned to go inside before he jumped up and dashed to the door. "Aunt Bonnie," he asked. She looked down at him questioningly and he leaned in and whispered, "Do you think you can make us some snicker doodles later?" _

"_I think I can manage that," she replied with a smile. _

"_Okay, cool," he replied when Chris called him back over. _

_Chris carefully placed a 'Hot One' car at the top of the ramp, locking it into place. He got an excited expression on his face and said, "Check it out." _

_Martin watched as he pressed the release button and sent the car racing down the ramp and flying through the air and into the rose bush. _

_Grinning from ear to ear he said, "Oh man, I gotta see that again!"_

XoXoXoX

"Turn left at the next light," the automated voice directed.

Martin clicked the blinker and moved the car over to the turning lane.

"I knew I should have driven," Sam said from the seat beside him.

"Why?" he asked, glancing at her quickly before returning his attention to the road ahead.

"Because you're in the lane to turn right," she replied, jerking her head to road.

He looked out and sure enough he was in the wrong turning lane. "Shit." He clicked the blinker again and checked his rearview mirror before merging across two lanes to turn left. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, just let me drive," she replied with a smile.

"I got a little distracted, I'll be fine," he replied, straightening his posture and moving his hands into the proper ten and two position. "Besides we're almost there."

He didn't have to look at her to know she was giving him that look, eyebrow raised and a skeptical expression on her face, as she mumbled, "Fine but I am driving back."

He kept his eyes on the road to the cemetery were Chris' family was holding a memorial service so they could finally lay their son to rest in the spot that had been waiting for him for the last twenty years.

To say he was dreading it would be the understatement of the year.

He knew that having to tell Chris' parents that his body was recovered was going to be difficult but having to explain to them the circumstances surrounding their son's death was the most gut wrenching thing he ever had to do in his life.

XoX

_After he finished telling them the reason he was visiting them after all these years, Mr. and Mrs. Warner shut down, each staring back at Martin in shocked disbelief. He hadn't seen them in twenty years and their first encounter with their deceased son's best friend was to learn that their son was killed because he looked like him. There was no way to take the sting out. _

"_And you're sure it's him?" Mr. Warner asked again, wringing his hands. "You sure it's Chris?" _

"_I'm sure," Martin replied, praying that he wouldn't have to elaborate on how he was so certain because he saw the baseball cap for himself. _

_Mr. Warner abruptly stood up and walked over to the window, his sorrowful gaze directed outside. Martin looked over at Mrs. Warner who just sat on the chair next to him, a numb expression on her face. She hadn't spoken a word since he told them why he was there. As much pain as he felt about Chris' death he could not imagine what they must be feeling._

"_I'm so sorry," Martin breathed, his voice releasing a tremor. _

_He wished he didn't have to tell them everything but since the press caught wind of Dodd's arrest it was going mostly likely going to break nationally and there would be no concealing the story once the media got a hold of it. A story about a serial child murderer being arrested was ratings gold but factor in that he was taken down by one of his intended victims – well, he was certain that several of the major networks would devote hours upon hours to it. He could not tell Chris' parents some comforting lies to try and ease the blow. No, the media would feast on the story, not sparing on each and every gruesome detail. _

"_And there isn't going to be any trial?" Mr. Warner asked, his back to him as he continued staring out the window. _

_Martin shook his head. "No. He pleaded guilty and considering his health he will be long dead before a trial could've taken place anyway." _

_It went quiet, the sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the corner of the room marking each agonizing second. He shifted his gaze to the mantle where Chris' picture sat in a silver frame. It was a school portrait complete with the faux forest backdrop. His friend looked exactly as he would always remember him. Along side the frame sat photos of two teenage girls. _

_When Martin arrived he discovered that not only did Chris' parents not get a divorce but they went on to have two more children, twin daughters: Amy and Janelle. The silver lining in this was Chris' death ended up the key factor in reconciling his parents. As happy as Martin wanted to be that the Warner's were still together, it made it that much harder to tell them the truth about their son's death. They had learned to move on and rebuild their life only to have Dodd come forward after all this time and turn it upside down again. _

"_Why didn't you just kill him?" _

_Both Martin and Mrs. Warner looked up at the same time. He stared at Mr. Warner's back in utter disbelief. "Excuse me?"_

_Mr. Warner turned around, his eyes dark and threatening. "I asked why you didn't kill him when you had the chance? You could have done it." He stepped up towards where Martin sat and gave him a hard look. "You could have killed that son of a bitch. I watch TV. I know how you cops, FBI agents, whatever can fix a crime scene to make it look like it was an accident or his fault. Why couldn't you have killed him and just ended all of this?" _

"_James…" Mrs. Warner warned._

"_Tell me how Martin?" Mr. Warner continued; his voice edgier and more desperate. "You come to our home after all these years and tell us that Chris wasn't the one who was supposed to die that day. You tell us that that bastard was looking for you. You, Chris' supposed best friend who couldn't even be bothered to attend his funeral…"_

"_Stop it," Mrs. Warner interrupted. _

"_No, Erin," Mr. Warner interrupted, still glowering at Martin. "I want to know how Martin here, knowing that he is the reason that my son was killed, could just let that son of bitch live?" _

_Mr. Warner could have hit him with a bat and it still would have hurt less than his words. Martin lowered his gaze; it was too painful to see the look of anger in Chris' father's eyes. He licked his lips to try and find his voice to reply when Mrs. Warner spoke up._

"_How dare you ask him that?" she asked; her tone hard and even. _

"_He just told us that Chris wasn't the one who was supposed to…"_

"_Stop it!" she ordered, shooting him a warning look. "Chris is gone and you will not place the blame where it doesn't belong." Martin tilted his head so he could look at her as she talked. "It isn't his fault and he did what was right." Her voice went as soft as a whisper as she added, "Can't you see Martin's grieving, too?"_

_He could feel the tension in the room rise up a few notches as he carefully looked up at Mr. Warner. Chris' father's eyes filled with tears and he shook his head before turning around and stalking up the stairs. The room filled with deafening silence and he decided that was his cue to leave. He had no words of comfort to offer them, if anything he was a reminder of all they had lost. _

"_I'm so sorry." He stood up and grabbed his coat. He looked down at Mrs. Warner and softly said, "I'll let myself out."_

"_I'm sorry about my husband," she said, looking up and meeting his eyes. "This is just a lot to take in. We've spent so many years coping with Chris' death and my husband still hasn't learned to forgive himself for not being around more when Chris was growing up." With sad eyes she finished, "I think he is just lashing out because he finally has someplace else to put the blame." _

_He nodded slowly and said, "I can understand how he feels, the desire to kill the man who took Chris' life. Make no mistake, I wanted to kill him." He could still feel the adrenaline at being able to hold the gun to Dodd and fire. He sighed audibly and shook his head. "But that's what Dodd wanted, too, and I wasn't about to do anything that he wanted." _

_She stared up at him with sad eyes and just nodded her head slowly, understanding. _

_Clutching his coat in his hand he turned and started to take a step away when she stood up, wrapping her arms close to her and said, "Thank you for coming and telling us in person, Martin. I know it couldn't have been easy."_

"_None of this is easy for anyone." His throat went sore and his voice cracked. "I just hope this will give you some closure."_

"_I lost my only son, Martin. There will never be closure," she replied, the grief in her voice palpable. "But you bringing his body home will help us accept that he really is gone." _

XoX

The following week he got a call from Mrs. Warner telling him that the coroner's office finally released Chris' body to the family. She said that they would be holding a private memorial service and they wanted him to come. There would be no church service this time, just a simple ceremony at the gravesite. He didn't want to go but he knew he couldn't let his friend down a second time.

"There it is," Sam said softly, bringing him back into the present.

He looked ahead to see the sign for Grey Groves Cemetery. He clicked on his blinker and turned in the car onto the small road leading into the cemetery. He spotted the black hearse up ahead and several other cars lined up behind it. He parked the car a few spaces down, he pulled the key out of the ignition and held the keychain out for Sam.

"Here you go," he said, dangling them out for her.

She reached up and took them. She sighed and looked over to where a large group was gathered. "Do you need a minute?"

He shook his head and they both stepped out of the car.

XoX

The ceremony was short and simple. Just a few prayers before Chris' casket was lowered into the ground. Unlike the time when he visited Chris here with his aunt a few tears did fall from his eyes. He felt Sam's hand slip into his and he gripped it tightly. He looked over at Chris' parents who wear the epitome of strength as their only son was committed to the earth. Mr. Warner looked directly at him, meeting his eyes but where there was once anger there was now a look of compassion. It was clear that the two men were united in their grief.

When it was over, the priest invited all the mourners to the Warner's for a small reception. As the people slowly filtered back to their cars Mrs. Warner began weeping and Mr. Warner reached over and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and whispering something in her ear. Their two daughters huddled nearby, watching them with sad eyes. Mr. Warner released his wife from his embrace and led her to their daughters who pulled her into a hug. He took a step back and looked over at Martin before heading straight for him.

"I'm glad you could come," he said as he neared. He offered Sam a polite smile as way of hello before looking back at Martin. "We were worried you might not considering… Well, you know."

Still holding Sam's hand Martin replied, "I owed it to Chris to be here."

It was quiet a beat as Mr. Warner cleared his throat. "I owe you an apology for the things I said to you. I was out of line."

"It's alright," Martin insisted.

"No it's not," Mr. Warner said. "It was wrong of me. I was just so angry and you made a very easy target." He hesitated for a beat and carefully asked, "You are coming to the house now aren't you?"

Martin looked at Sam, unsure. "I don't know if we can…"

"Please," he gently pleaded. "There is something I really want to show you."

"Of course he'll come," Sam answered on his behalf when it took him too long to reply. She squeezed his hand and gave him a determined look.

Satisfied, Mr. Warner excused himself and they watched as he walked over to join his family before heading back to their car.

"Do you want some time?" she asked him, her eyes on the grave.

"I don't know…" he began when he saw someone that made his breath catch: Sarah Miller.

She slowly walked towards them and shyly asked, "I don't suppose you remember me?"

It took him a minute to find his voice. He was too surprised by her presence for his mind to convey any thoughts to his mouth. "Hi Sarah."

She grinned. "Hi Martin." They just smiled at each other dumbly for a beat when she turned to look at Sam and said, "I'm sorry, how rude. Hello, I'm Sarah Miller. I went to camp with Martin and Chris."

Sam smiled and held out her hand to shake. "Samantha Spade. Nice to meet you." She turned to look at him and ran her hand along his arm. "I'll wait for you in the car so you two can catch up."

He gave her a grateful smile and watched as she stepped over to the car before turning back to Sarah.

"She seems nice," Sarah said, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ears. It didn't escape his attention that her eyes were as big and beautiful as he remembered.

"Yeah, she's great," he replied before motioning to her. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," she replied like a woman who didn't believe him but was grateful to hear it nonetheless. She brought her hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her other ear and he immediately noticed the ring on her finger.

"You're married," he breathed.

"Five years," she replied, looking at the ring, before dropping her hand to her side.

"A good guy I hope."

"A very good guy," she replied, her eyes almost dancing as she talked. "We met in veterinary school. We have our own practice in Connecticut."

He looked around. "Is he here?"

"No." She shook her head and explained, "Our daughter has a cold so he stayed home with her."

"Kids, too?"

"Just the one." She pulled a locket from under the collar of her shirt and opened it up to show him. "This is Claudia. She's three."

The photo was of a cherubic girl who was the spiting image of her mother: brown hair, large brown eyes, and a big smile. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah, she's great." She looked at the photo, smiling, before clasping it back shut. "What about you, any kids?"

"No," he quietly replied when they heard an engine roar to life behind them. They both turned around to see a small tractor pushing dirt onto the grave.

"I'm sorry about Chris," she replied, glancing sadly at the grave. "When I read about it in the paper it was just so unbelievable. I cannot imagine what you must be feeling right now."

He didn't reply right away. He just stared at the tractor, moving back and forth, slowly filling the grave. "Do you remember," he paused to clear his throat, trying to dislodge the lump. He turned to look at her. "Do you remember anything about Chris from that day?"

She met her eyes, unwavering. That was one thing he always admired about her, she never backed down. "I remember it had been raining. Casey and Chris were arguing which was annoying me," she shared a smile with Martin. They were comrades when it came to being annoyed by Casey and Chris' couple issues. "She wanted to play board games and he wanted to go watch _Caddyshack_ in the mess hall." She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "It was such a stupid fight."

She grew solemn again. "So Chris went to go watch the movie and Casey and I went back to the cabin and played _Dream Date_. It was just such an ordinary day. Later we tried to find him for dinner and that's when Matt said that he never showed up to watch the movie." She wiped a tear off her cheek and said, "I've replayed that day in my mind a hundred times over, Martin. I keep thinking that if I had just convinced Casey to see the movie that maybe things would have gone differently."

"I know that feeling," he breathed, giving her a soft look. "But according to my friend Danny it's a useless one."

"Sounds like a smart guy."

He grinned. "I'm sure he'd agree with you."

She released a light laugh, tilting her head to look at him. "I know this might sound awful right now but I'm glad I finally got a chance to talk to you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You left camp so suddenly and the only person who knew how to reach you was…" she trailed off, not willing to go there. "I went to Chris' memorial service partly thinking that you would be there but you didn't go." She laughed nervously. "I even tried tracking you down myself. I think I called every Fitzgerald in the state of Virginia. My dad just about had an aneurysm when he got the phone bill."

"You wouldn't have found me," he replied, disappointed that she had tried so hard to get in touch with him only to have it doomed from the start. And than regretting that he never once tried to call her. "Our number was unlisted."

"I kinda figured that out by the time I got to Zed Fitzgerald."

They shared a smile when she sighed heavily and looked over to see the now filled up grave. "I'm really sorry, Martin. I know Chris was like a brother to you."

He nodded sadly when they heard several cars pulling onto the street. They looked over to see the procession of vehicles driving away. He spotted Sam sitting in their car waiting for him.

"I should get going. Chris' dad said he wanted to show me something." He looked at Sarah and asked, "You're going to the reception, right? I'd like to finish catching up."

She smiled and nodded. "See you there."

She turned and started walking to her own car. He followed her with his eyes before turning around and moving to his own car. He opened the door and climbed onto the passenger seat. He started to buckle his seat belt when he felt Sam's eyes on him. He looked at her to see a bemused smile on her face.

"So that's Sarah your old girlfriend?"

He smiled. "Yup."

"I hope you told her I'm the only person skipping your stones now," she joked.

He laughed. "Sam, everyone knows you have my stones in the palm of your hand."

This time she laughed.

A short drive later they arrived at the Warner's house. There was several news vans parked outside so Sam made sure to park out of sight so they could sneak to the house from the other side. After the news broke he had every major network hounding him for an interview, each more eager than the next for an exclusive story.

They managed to make it all the way to the porch before the reporters swarmed. Fortunately their FBI training kept them a step ahead so they were able to push past and enter the house.

Mrs. Warner was standing in the foyer and she walked straight to him. "Martin, I'm so pleased that you came."

After he introducing Samantha he asked, "Where is Mr. Warner?"

"He's looking for something in the garage." She pointed to a door at the end of the hallway before excusing herself to go talk to some other mourners who entered.

"You gonna be okay by yourself?" he quietly asked Sam.

"Sure," she replied, glancing past his shoulder. He looked over to see Sarah hanging her coat on the coat rack. "Your summer sweetheart just got here and I'd like to ask her a few questions about what you were like as a teenage boy."

"On second thought, I'm sure Mr. Warner can wait…"

"Get out of here lover boy," she ordered, giving him a playful shove down the hall.

He turned around and gave her a big smile before continuing down the hallway. He knocked on the door before turning the knob and stepping inside. "Mr. Warner?"

"Martin, come in," he replied from where he stood at a workbench piled high with weathered cardboard boxes. "Please close the door behind you."

After closing the door Martin walked up to where Mr. Warner stood and noticed that the writing on the side of the boxes read 'Chris.' With trepidation, he peeked inside to see it filled with items that he remembered well: LP's, cassette tapes, old Pee Wee football trophies, and baseball cards.

"This is all we have left of our son," Mr. Warner said, staring at the items in the box. "Things that we just couldn't manage to throw out."

Martin pulled out a small stack of cassette tapes and read the labels. They were recordings of Kasey Kasem's Top 40. With a melancholy smile on his face he began flipping through them to see Chris' writing on each label marking the date and the top ten songs for that week.

"I can't believe you kept these," he said softly.

"We couldn't understand Chris' fascination with that show," Mr. Warner said, gesturing to the tapes in Martin's hand.

"He loved music," he replied before looking up at Mr. Warner. "He treated it like a research project. He would record the show every Saturday morning and then make a list of which artists he thought would last and which ones were one hit wonders." He opened up a cassette case and showed him the notes Chris made inside. "See, here he wrote, 'Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam – will only last for one album. Guns 'N Roses – could be legendary but lead singer a wild card.'"

Mr. Warner took the tape, running his fingers over the blue ink. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It was just something he liked to do. Of course, whenever he was proven right he would drive me crazy telling me how 'he called it!'"

The two men laughed softly when Mr. Warner looked at him and said, "I knew that you could help me."

"Help you?"

"There is so much I don't know about my son. What little I do I know about Chris is stuff I found in his room after he was gone. But what I don't have is the stories behind this stuff." He reached into the box and grabbed a Hot Wheel car that Martin knew well. It was the same car Chris had on the day they met. "My biggest regret is as much as I love my son I really didn't even know who he was. I don't know what his favorite pizza topping was or his favorite movie." His voice cracked as he finished, "I don't even know if he ever had the chance to kiss a girl."

Martin stared sadly at Mr. Warner before he removed his jacket and tossed it onto the table and replied, "He liked pepperoni, just pepperoni."

Mr. Warner's eyes filled with tears as he gave Martin a sad, grateful smile.

"His favorite movie changed all the time but that summer it was _Lethal Weapon_," he continued, rolling up his sleeves as he spoke before reaching in and pulling out Chris' plastic replica of the _Millennium Falcon_. He popped it open and inside was dozens of miniature _Star Wars_ action figures.

He held up the two inch tall Darth Vadar and with a big grin on his face he met Mr. Warner's eyes and finished, "And I can verify for a fact that he kissed Casey Winters a lot that summer. A lot."

XoXoX

End _Into the Abyss_

To Be Continued in the Epilogue


	17. Epilogue

XoXoXoX

_And we all shine on  
__Like the moon and the stars and the sun  
__Yeah we all shine on  
__On and on and on and on_

'Instant Karma' John Lennon

XoXoXoX

Epilogue

XoXoXoX

"You know when you invited me to spend a lazy Saturday by the water I was thinking of someplace more along the lines of the beach," Sam commented between pants of breath. "You know, sipping a Mai Tai and watching the waves."

"Next time, I promise," he replied as he carefully stepped over the rocky terrain.

"Man, I haven't done this much hiking since I was in Quantico," Danny contributed and Sam hummed in agreement.

Martin looked over his shoulder to see Danny and Sam marching up the trail behind him. "Did you guys whine this much back then, too?"

"Yes," they replied in unison before sharing a chuckle.

He shook his head and smiled before turning back around to continue the hike. "We're almost there."

He never thought he would be back here at Cayuga Lake but five months ago he never thought he would be doing a lot of things he was doing now.

After the funeral he saw Mr. Warner a few more times. He would go to his house and have lunch and all conversations would inevitably lead to Chris. He would tell them about how they met, the stunts they would pull during those long days of summer, the big plans they had for the future, and whatever details he could recall. He wished they could return the favor but their stories were very ordinary, distant, lacking any real connection to the Chris he knew. But the one thing they were able to give him was the courage to realize that he still had time to forge a connection with his own parents.

XoX

"_Well this is a surprise," his father said as he answered the door. He was wearing his reading glasses and held The Washington Post in one hand. He stepped back so Martin could enter the house. "Your mother didn't tell me you were coming down this weekend."_

"_I didn't tell her," Martin replied as he dropped his overnight bag next to the table in the foyer. "I had some free time this weekend so I thought I would visit. I hope that's okay."_

_Victor removed his reading glasses and replied, "You know you are always welcome." He started to the kitchen and said, "Rosa just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Care for a cup?" _

"_Sounds good," he replied as he followed his father down the hall into the kitchen._

_Victor walked to the far counter and opened up a cabinet, pulling out a coffee cup. With his back to Martin he moved to the coffee maker while Martin leaned against the island and picked up an apple from the fruit bowl. He idly studied it, not really hungry, before putting it back. _

"_Unfortunately your mother isn't home right now," Victor explained as he poured a cup of coffee and handed the cup to Martin. "She had a board meeting for her women's group."_

"_So what cause is it this time?" he asked as he took a sip of the coffee. "Are they looking for a cure, defending a cause, or promoting awareness?" _

"_I'm not sure," his dad replied with a light laugh as he got to work refilling his own cup. "But you can bet it will involve me signing a very large check." _

_They both smiled knowingly before each taking a seat at the coffee table. _

_Victor leaned back on his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "So are things settling down for you yet? I've noticed that the media has shifted its focus to the pop star with all those emotional issues." _

"_Yeah, somewhat," he replied. _

_While it got rather crazy immediately after the press exposed the case with Dodd after a few weeks it all died down again. Martin, Chris and all the other victims became yesterday's news. All it took was a bubble gum pop princess to have an emotional meltdown in public. He never thought he would feel grateful for the media's fascination with celebrity gossip._

"_So, what brings you here? It can't be for a cup of coffee," Victor guessed, plucking a piece of lint off his trousers. "Are you meeting up with some old college friends?" _

"_No," he replied, reaching over and cradling his cup between both hands. "I actually came here to see you and mom." _

"_Us?" his father asked, puzzled. _

"_Yeah, I thought maybe we could have dinner together, catch up," he replied, clearing his throat. _

"_Catch up?" Victor asked, incredulous. "What's this about, Martin?" _

_Martin tilted his head side to side. This was a lot more awkward than he imagined when he rehearsed this scenario in his head. He steeled his nerves and looked up, meeting his dad's curious gaze. _

"_I was thinking that we don't really know each other," he replied, carefully, the words sounding foreign on his own tongue. "If someone were to ask me what toppings you liked on your pizza or the name of your favorite movie I couldn't tell them." He paused and added, "Could you answer any of those questions about me?" _

_His father furrowed his brow and asked, "What brought this on?"_

_He lowered his eyes, hating that when it came to intimacy with his father he always shrunk under his gaze. He could chat or argue with his dad but when it came to personal stuff he was a true Fitzgerald and had difficulty being into the "close thing." _

"_I've been talking to Chris' dad and he told me that his biggest regret was not really getting to know his son." He swallowed and forced himself to meet his dad's eyes. "And see, the thing is dad, Chris had the exact same relationship with his dad that I did with you. That I still do."_

"_I don't see what the Warner's have to do with us," his father rebutted. _

_Not backing down, he sat up and said, "I don't want any regrets." _

"_I don't have any regrets," Victor argued, seeming bristled by the accusation. "I know we don't have one of those touchy feely father son relationships but our relationship is just fine." He paused, considering, and then added, "Maybe it's not perfect but it certainly is better than the one I had with my own father."_

_Martin nodded and picked up his cup. "I guess I thought we could do better," he said before taking a drink. _

_His father stared back at him for a long beat and Martin wondered if it was a big mistake coming here. That maybe this was the best relationship he and his father could have together. At least he still had his dad and maybe that in and of should be enough. _

"'_The Dirty Dozen,'" his father said at last, lifting up his coffee cup to take a drink. Martin looked at him questioningly and he explained, "My favorite movie is 'The Dirty Dozen.'" They shared a look when his father motioned for him to speak. "And yours is…?" _

_Martin smiled and leaned back in his own chair. "Bullitt." _

"_Steve McQueen, always a good choice." His dad __smiled broadly and quoted, "__You work your side of the street and I'll work mine." _

_Impressed that his father knew his favorite film well enough to quote from it he sat up straight and decided to return the favor. In his best Telly Savalas impersonation he quoted a line from 'The Dirty Dozen' by replying, "It's judgment day, sinners!" _

_His dad laughed._

_They spent a good portion of the afternoon discussing their favorite scenes from those two movies along with other films they also liked. And while it wasn't a soul revealing conversation, just spending time like that with his dad was more than enough. _

XoX

"Are we there yet?"

"We're here," Martin replied as he reached the top. He walked to the ledge and looked out over Cayuga Lake. It felt the same but markedly different. It seemed both vast and infinitely smaller than he remembered. He heard some rustling behind him so he turned around and rushed over to help Sam climb over the boulder to reach the top.

"Thanks," she replied, grabbing a hold of his hand. She dusted the dirt off her shorts and looked around. "So this is the famous Cayuga Cliff?"

Danny joined them and looked around. Satisfied that he was safely on top he removed the new Ray Ban sunglasses that Martin had given him to replace his old ones and rested them on top of his head. He slapped his hands together and asked, "So what now?"

"We jump," Martin replied, matter-of-factly. He toed off his Teva's and started pulling off his shirt. "You can leave your shoes and stuff here and I'll come back and get them or you can jump with them on, your choice."

"I don't know, are you sure it's safe?" Sam asked, peering over the edge to the dark water below.

"Trust me," he replied, playfully knocking her arm with his elbow. She shook her head and gave him one of her adorable lopsided smiles.

"Tell me why we're doing this again," Danny asked as yanked off his sneakers.

"Because Chris and I wanted to make it a tradition. It's time I got started on it," Martin replied, piling his stuff nearby. He could feel Sam and Danny look at him with sadness but he refused to let any sad memories of his friend color this moment. He was here to celebrate happy memories and make new ones.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Sam handed him her shoes as she started to pull of her own shirt, revealing a pale blue bikini top. He took a moment to admire the view as she handed her top to him. "Nice."

She shook her head and laughed. "Let's just hurry up and do this." She tilted her head up towards the sun and added, "I don't tan. I just freckle."

"I like your freckles," he replied, planting a quick soft kiss on her lips.

"Yeah, yeah," Danny said as he walked past them and carefully crept to the edge and looked down, his face turning pale. "Why couldn't you have picked a different tradition?" He turned around to face Martin and said, "You know something more along the lines of playing air hockey for six hours straight or seeing who can eat the most hot dogs."

"If you don't want to this you don't have to," he replied, offering him an out. "I understand if you're too scared…"

"I didn't say I was scared," Danny replied adamantly, his voice getting that macho tone. "Let's do this."

The three of them walked to the ledge and Martin felt that same rush he felt all those years ago: a little fear and some excitement about what he was going to do. He looked over to see Samantha and Danny's faces, each looking a little hesitant but determined nonetheless.

"You know the last time I jumped off the cliff I did it with my best friend." They both turned to look at him as he smiled and continued, "I'm glad that I am able to still do this with my best friends."

Sam smiled and reached out to hold of his hand. "So, what do you think? On the count of three?"

He nodded and began counting down, "One, two," Sam squeezed his hand tightly as he finished, "Three!"

And together they all jumped over the side and into the abyss.

End Epilogue

End _Into the Abyss_

XoXoXoXoX

The Nagging Cube: Thank you for your reviews and encouragement. I am definitely taking some of your comments into consideration. ;-)

Anmodo: Seriously, thank you, thank you for not only reviewing all the chapters but making them thoughtful as well. It's always an honor when someone who isn't an M/S/MS fan reads my work because they like the way I wrote their fave character.

Mini-squint03, Mrs.Fitzgerald52, RRSherlock, hotchner, Petra79, lapmal, abbykov, PJ in NH, rebandmel, and sparkesann: Thank you all for reviewing! I can't lie, every time I see someone reviews it makes my heart skip a beat. I love writing fanfic but it's much more fun to know that someone else likes what I wrote.

AJ Squaredaway and 2merryann: Your reviews made me blush. Thank you so much for having such faith in my story and sticking with it. Even when you may have had some doubts. ;-D


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